


Heart of Darkness

by darklesmylove



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically, Compromising, Did I mention angst, F/M, I hate a taste for you once, I mean the darkling plus innuendos, I need to stop myself, MY BABIES, Minor Original Character, Picking Flowers, So much angst, Tension, You will love it, aleks is a lovesick puppy, aleks is a sex FIEND, aleks is dramatic, aleksanderrrr, angsty aleks, badass alina, baghra calls aleks OUT, but also sinnamon roll aleks, but also still down 4 murder, but so is alina no surprise, but very plot driven, but you will love it, darkles always doing paperwork, darklina forever, did I mention mal is trash, dorkles, even tho I love nikolai, he's still kind of an asshole also, how it should have ended, idk you tell me, if I've said it once I've said it a hundred times, is that masochism idk, it gets better as it goes, its fine don't worry, lil bit of violence, lots of negotiating, lots of sass, mal is back baby and he still sucks, malaria sucks, maybe some unconventional negotiating tactics ;), not as much nikolai, omG alina ur my wEakNeSs, romance is gonna be a #slowburn tho, romantic walks through the garden, sexual tension ;), sike ivan isnt dead, so sexy, soft aleks is my aesthetic, some dirty talk obvi, some fluff thrown in there, some smut, some swearing I think idk, spoiler she STILL has a taste for you aleks, various character deaths, watching sunsets, what can ya do, why does he have so much paperwork, you may or may not get your heart ripped out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 130,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklesmylove/pseuds/darklesmylove
Summary: An alternate ending and bridge between Siege and Storm and Ruin and Rising, with the ending we deserve. Long AU :)"You think you can balance him, but he could just as easily drag you down into the darkness with him."





	1. let them all go

**Author's Note:**

> This first part has a lot of Leigh's writing in it, adjusted to align with my style a little more. I'm so excited for this fic guys!! it's going to be a relatively long AU, so get ready for plenty of alarkling/how it really should have ended (basically a big suck it to Mal)

"Stand down, Alina," said the Darkling. His cool voice echoed through the chapel, cutting through the noise and chaos.

"Stand down, and I will spare them." In answer, Tamar scraped one axe blade over the other, raising a horrible shriek of metal on metal. The sun soldiers lifted their rifles, and I heard the sound of Inferni flint being struck.

"Look around, Alina," the Darkling said. "You cannot win. You can only watch them die. Come to me now, and I will do them no harm—not your zealot soldiers, not even the Grisha traitors."

I took in the nightmare of the chapel. The nichevo'ya swarmed above us, crowding up against the inside of the dome. They clustered around the Darkling in a dense cloud of bodies and wings. Through the windows I could see more, hovering in the twilight sky. The sun soldiers' faces were determined, but their ranks had been badly thinned. One of them had pimples on his chin. Beneath his tattoo, he didn't look much older than twelve. They needed a miracle from their Saint, one I couldn't perform. Tolya cocked the triggers on his pistols.

"Hold," I said, unable to keep the tremble out of my voice.

"Alina," Tamar whispered, "We can still get you out."

"Hold," I repeated. The sun soldiers lowered their rifles. Tamar brought her axes to her hips but kept her grip tight.

"What are your terms?" I asked, tilting my chin up to meet the Darkling's gaze. Mal frowned. Tolya shook his head. I didn't care. I knew it might be a ploy, but if there was even a chance of saving their lives, I had to take it.

"Give yourself up," the Darkling canted his head, his tone light, as if he were discussing the weather, "And they all go free. They can climb down that rabbit hole and disappear forever."

"Free?" Sergei whispered, his face paling.

"He's lying," Mal spat, his eyes blazing, "It's what he does."

"I don't need to lie," the Darkling responded evenly, his gaze trained nowhere but on me, "Alina wants to come with me."

"She doesn't want any part of you," Mal sneered.

"No?" the Darkling asked. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight of the chapel. Summoning his shadow army had taken its toll. He was thinner, paler, but somehow the sharp angles of his face had only become more beautiful. "I warned you that your otkazat'sya could never understand you, Alina. I told you that he would only come to fear you and resent your power. Tell me I was wrong."

"You were wrong." My voice was steady, but doubt rustled in my heart.

The Darkling shook his head. "You cannot lie to me. Do you think I could have come to you again and again, if you had been less alone? You called to me, and I answered."

I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. "You ... you were there?"

"On the Fold. In the palace. Last night." His voice was soft, like a caress. I flushed as I remembered the feeling of his body on top of mine. Shame washed through me, but with it came overwhelming relief. I hadn't imagined it all.

"That isn't possible," Mal bit out.

"You have no idea what I can make possible, tracker."

I shut my eyes.

"Alina—"

"I've seen what you truly are," said the Darkling, "and I've never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?"

"You don't know anything about her," Mal said fiercely.

"Come with me now, and it all stops—the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed. Let him go, Alina. Let them all go."

"No," I bit out. But even as I shook my head, something in me lusted after his promise. The Darkling sighed and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Bring her," he ordered with a lazy flick of his fingers. A figure shuffled forward, draped in a heavy shawl, hunched and slow-moving, as if every step brought pain. Baghra. My stomach twisted sickly. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't she have gone with Nikolai? Unless Nikolai had never made it out. The Darkling laid a hand on Baghra's shoulder. She flinched.

"Leave her alone," I said angrily.

"Show them," he said. She unwound her shawl. I drew in a sharp breath. I heard someone behind me moan. It was not Baghra. I didn't know what it was. The bites were everywhere, raised black ridges of flesh, twisting lumps of tissue that could never be healed, not by Grisha hand or by any other, the unmistakable marks of the nichevo'ya. Then I saw the faded flame of her hair, the lovely amber hue of her one remaining eye.

"Genya," I gasped. We stood in terrible silence. I took a step toward her. Then David pushed past me down the altar steps. Genya cringed away from him, pulling up her shawl, and turned to hide her face. David slowed. He hesitated. Gently, he reached out to touch her shoulder. I saw the rise and fall of her back, and knew she was crying. I covered my mouth as a sob tore free from my throat. I'd seen a thousand horrors on this long day, but this was the one that broke me, Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared to show me mercy. David drew his arm around Genya's shoulders and slowly led her back up the aisle. The Darkling didn't stop them.

"I've waged the war you forced me to, Alina," said the Darkling. "If you hadn't run from me, the Second Army would still be intact. All those Grisha would still be alive. Your tracker would be safe and happy with his regiment. When will it be enough? When will you let me stop?" Baghra was right. I'd been a fool to think I could fight him. I'd tried, and countless people had lost their lives for it. "You mourn the people killed in Novokribirsk," the Darkling continued, the silver in his eyes piercing through me, "the people lost to the Fold. But what of the thousands that came before them, given over to endless wars? What of the others dying now on distant shores? Together, we can put an end to all of it." Reasonable. Logical. For once, I let the words in. An end to all of it. It's over. I should have felt beaten down by the thought, defeated, but instead it filled me with a curious lightness. Hadn't some part of me known it would end this way all along? The moment the Darkling had slipped his hand over my arm in the Grisha pavilion so long ago, he'd taken possession of me. I couldn't resist him. I just hadn't realized it. But embracing it, maybe I could find a way to infiltrate his mind from the inside. To make him change, or to gain his trust then kill him. I could do more next to his side than I ever could have done running away from him like a mouse. My mind teemed with the possibilities.

"All right," I whispered.

"Alina, no!" Mal protested furiously, moving to grab my arm. I stepped out of his reach, ignoring him.

"You'll let them go?" I asked. "All of them?"

"We need the tracker," said the Darkling. "For the firebird."

"He goes free. You can't have both of us." The Darkling paused, then nodded once. I knew he thought he would find a way to claim Mal. Let him believe it. I would never let it happen.

"I'm not going anywhere," Mal said through clenched teeth.

I turned to Tolya and Tamar. "Take him from here. Even if you have to carry him."

"Alina—"

"We won't go," said Tamar. "We are sworn."

"You will."

Tolya shook his huge head. "We pledged our lives to you. All of us." I turned to face them.

"Then do as I command," I said. "Tolya Yul-Baatar, Tamar Kir-Baatar, you will take these people from here to safety." I summoned the light, letting it blaze in a glorious halo around me. A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would have been proud. "Do not fail me."

Tamar had tears in her eyes, but she and her brother bowed their heads.

Mal hooked my arm and turned me around roughly. "What are you doing?"

"I want this." I need it. Sacrifice or selfishness, it didn't matter anymore.

"I don't believe you."

"I can't run from what I am, Mal, from what I'm becoming. I can't bring the Alina you knew back, but I can set you free."

"You can't ... you can't choose him."

"There isn't any choice to make. This is what was meant to be." It was true. I felt it in the collar, in the weight of the fetter. For the first time in weeks, I felt strong. I would rule as his queen until I was powerful enough to destroy him. I tried to communicate to him with my eyes.

_I don't choose him Mal, but I can't choose you either._

He shook his head. "This is all wrong." The look on his face almost undid me. It was lost, startled, like a little boy standing alone in the ruin of a burning village. "Please, Alina," he said softly. "Please. This can't be how it ends." I rested my hand on his cheek, hoping that there was still enough between us that he would understand. I stood on my toes and kissed the scar on his jaw.

"I have loved you all my life, Mal," I whispered through my tears. "There is no end to our story." I couldn't be selfish, my love for him wouldn't save Ravka. I stepped back, memorizing every line of his beloved face. Then I turned and walked up the aisle. My steps were sure. Mal would have a life. I had to use mine for the good of the country. Nikolai had promised me a chance to save Ravka, to make amends for all I'd done. He'd tried, but it was the Darkling's gift to give. And I would wrench it from his beautiful fingers as soon as I had the chance.

"Alina!" Mal shouted. I heard scuffling behind me and knew Tolya had taken hold of him. "Alina!" His voice was raw white wood, torn from the heart of a tree. I did not turn. The Darkling stood waiting, his shadow guard hovering and shifting around him. I was afraid, but beneath the fear, I was eager.

"We are alike," he spoke, "As no one else is, as no one else will ever be." The truth of it rang through me. Like calls to like. He held out his hand, and I stepped into his arms. I cupped the back of his neck, feeling the silken brush of his hair on my fingertips. I knew Mal was watching. I needed him to turn away. I needed him to go. I tilted my face up to the Darkling's.

"My power is yours," I whispered, trying to swallow the repulsion the words brought me. Not in the sense that he repulsed me, but that I was repulsed with myself for the insatiable yearning to be in his arms.

I saw the elation and triumph in his eyes as he lowered his mouth to mine. Our lips met, and the connection between us opened. This was not the way he'd touched me in my visions, when he'd come to me as shadow. This was real, and I could drown in it. Power flowed through me—the power of the stag, its strong heart beating in both our bodies, the life he'd taken, the life I'd tried to save. But I also felt the Darkling's power, the power of the Black Heretic, the power of the Fold. I could feel the nichevo'ya presence, cold and foreboding as shadows wreathed around us in a dark orb. I could feel the merzost that resided in his veins, the absolute wave of power making my knees weak. The feeling was sinfully breathtaking. I wondered if he felt this pull towards me in the way I did towards him, the feeling that he was the very breath in my lungs, the beating of my heart.

His cold lips drifted from mine a mere moment before I might have collapsed, watching me in amusement as my eyes briefly flicked to the passage echoing with Mal's angry screams. They were gone. "I'm yours, I will be your Queen," I spoke softly, my body chilled yet feverish with the power pulsing through me from his touch. "My Alina," he purred, his fingers ghosting over my lips, "Just because you've given yourself up doesn't mean I trust you. Now sleep." My lips parted in a silent scream as his shadows swathed me in their icy grip.

Everything went dark.

***

My breaths felt shallow, painful in my chest, my eyelids heavy and swollen. The feeling of smooth silk against my body was the only comfort.

Silk.

I shot up, gasping for air as if I had just surfaced from a frigid lake, shivers crawling down my arms in particularly unpleasant fashion. My heart pounded wildly in my throat as I worked to still the immediate tremble of my hands, fisting the fabric of the sheets. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, my gaze drinking in the actuality of what I dreaded I had done. I was in the Darkling's quarters, drowning in the pooled silk of black and clothed in nothing but a short robe made from the same material as his luxurious bedding. My stare flickered across the room, a trill of fear slithering down my spine as quite abruptly I realized the Darkling was leaning against the door, studying me with near palpable intensity.

We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity.

"Do you make it a habit of watching people while they sleep?" I finally hoarsely inquired with an edge of sarcasm, making his lips twitch into that familiar ghost of a smile. It was enough to make my chest ache.

"That's your first question?" he canted his head, his black kefta rippling behind him in a slight wave as he pushed himself from the wall, taking a few intimidating steps forward in my direction. Reflexively I hugged the sheets more tightly around my body, my throat tightening in fear. I had no idea what he would do to me, nor what he was capable of anymore. He'd made it clear he didn't trust me, yet here I was, sleeping in his grand bed rather than chained up in a prison cell.

"What do you want from me?" I flashed a weak glare as he closed the distance between us.

His eyes flashed.

"What you give that otkazat'sya without even batting an eye," he spoke in a low hiss, the disgust in his voice enough to make me shrink back as he quickly regained his composure. Our eyes met. "What do I want from you?" he murmured, leaning in dangerously close, "All of you Alina, _I want all of you_. You will belong to me, your power, your allegiance... your love." I almost flinched as he reached out, gently brushing his slender fingers over the collar sitting heavy against my neck. "I will be all that you have. All that you know. That is what I want from you." He tapped my collarbone, sending a thrum of power through me that was exhilarating.

And that terrified me, because I loved it.

I _craved_ it.

Was I strong enough to keep my sanity under his hand, or would I end up just as power hungry as he was? Another avalanche that would inevitably destroy the world along with him?

"You're repulsive, I will never love or _belong_ to you," I snapped, instantly regretting the words when his eyes darkened dangerously. And did I even mean it? His hands drifted to my waist, fingers digging into my flesh possessively. I tried to pull away, but he held me fast as he leaned forward.

"I would take offense if you actually believed that, my dear Alina," he coolly spoke. I was frozen, my heart slamming into my chest in fear that he'd practically read my mind.

As soon as he pulled away it felt like I could finally breathe again. When he spoke next, spite twisted through his words like poison. 

"You'll join me in the throne room in an hour. If you try anything I might question as treason in the meantime, I will hunt that tracker down and tear him apart in front of your eyes."

He turned with a grand ripple of silk, striding down the hallway and leaving me alone in the dark.


	2. no one is to touch you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm going to let you know right now, there will be some small inconsistencies in plot because there are some quotes in Ruin and Rising that are too good not to include. so there will be lines from scenes that never happen in this AU, sorry sorry sorry. besides that, enjoy this chapter, a little taste of possessive Aleksander

"Let's go.”

A hulking Ivan dressed in a red kefta was at my door at exactly an hour past, instantly making my mood darken even more. Somehow, I wasn't surprised in the slightest that he had survived; I had stopped being shocked at what Aleksander could do long ago. With merzost at his disposal, I doubted he even had any limits to his power anymore.

The thought made a sickening shiver slither down my spine. 

I clasped a black kefta around the base of my neck, my eyes hastily flickering over my exhausted looking reflection in the mirror. My mouth immediately turned sour at the sight of myself in his color again. Sickening, yet thrilling at the same time. 

"Today, Starkov, you don't have time to make yourself look pretty," Ivan impatiently prompted, though an underlying uneasiness was telling in his demeanor.

No one wanted to keep the Darkling waiting.

"Maybe you should go back to being dead," I rolled my eyes, stepping across the threshold, allowing him to shut the door behind me.

The heavy door closed with a satisfying click as he arrogantly grinned, "You would miss me too much, Starkov."

I scowled, flicking his arm off of me as he attempted to wrap it around mine. "I'm capable of walking on my own," I snapped, hands clenched tightly at my sides as I strode forward. Ivan trailed behind me a safe distance away, not daring to try and speak to me any further. My shoes echoed on the marble floors, filling the tense silence between us as I attempted to hold up my head in a relatively dignified manner. It wasn't long before my breaths started to come in increasingly labored pants, my hands trembling with muted panic. Each step seemed to increase the strange dizziness that came twisting through my vision, my nichevo'ya bite starting to itch wildly as we grew closer and closer to the throne room.

Maybe I wasn't capable of walking on my own.

Nausea passed over me in a hot wave. I pressed my hand to the smooth ebony wall for support, desperately trying to gain at least some semblance of strength. I couldn't look weak in front of him, it wasn't an option. "

Keep moving," Ivan grunted suspiciously, though he refrained from touching me this time.

I stumbled, a sharp exhale leaving my lips. _Come on Alina, get a hold of yourself._

Unsteadily, I got my feet under me, weakly setting my shoulders and tilting my chin up in a pitiful semblance of defiance and clenching my shaking hands into fists before entering the throne room. The dreadful sound of skittering immediately made my eyes travel upwards to the domed ceiling teeming with nichevo'ya, whirling like a dark storm cloud above us, hissing and snapping in barely contained chaos. I almost black out right then, my hands trembling with a cold sweat as I clasped them together.

The Darkling was at his throne, wisps of shadows curling subtly at his feet as he watched us with mild interest. A second throne now sat to his right, the same enrapturing black, though instead of diamonds, it was inset with ember stones that resembled sparkling suns.

Dark and light, ruling together.

The thought called to me, tugging at the greed for power that had clung to me since the fetter had been sealed around my wrist.

"Leave us Ivan," the Darkling ordered cooly, waving him off with a deft flick of his hand. Ivan bowed low in response, promptly making for the hallway we'd entered from and leaving us to each other's company.

Tense silence ensued.

"Come sit," the Darkling softly ordered, his tone gentle but his stare commanding. His eyes slid over me as I shakily climbed the golden steps, halting directly in front of him.

His lips curled with a hint of taunting. "Your selection was apt." 

My mouth soured, my eyes narrowing with unconcealed loathing. I was in his color, a black and midnight blue ensemble with my black kefta draped around my shoulders. My eyes lifted to stubbornly meet his gray quartz gaze. I knew he had filled my closet with practically nothing but black to make a point. To claim me, like a peninsula.

"Save your approval, I couldn't care less about what you think of me," I glared, my jaw setting.

He stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles as he studied me in an analytical manner, no doubt evaluating my words. My skin prickled uncomfortably, the burst of confidence quickly fading under his gaze.

"Sit, Alina," he finally ordered, the lightness gone, replaced with a gray steel that I had long grown accustomed to. Stiffly, I perched on the edge of the throne next to him, _my throne_ , resting my hands in my lap in silent protest. "Eternity is a long time to despise someone," he mused, his stare trained at the grand, circular window that looked out onto Ravka's golden hills. Even from the palace, the inky, dark edges of the Shadow Fold could be seen, a jagged scar against the soft horizon.

A reminder.

"I don't despise you," I mumbled truthfully, my fingers gripping at my knees.

"But you love the tracker," he stated matter of factly, "You would do anything for that lowly otkazat'sya, yet he could never appreciate your power. He fears you, if not now then surely when you have the third amplifier. I know what you are truly capable of, and I will be the one to help you rise to your true destiny, not him." My stare slid over to him, over his lean, pale body, jet black, tousled hair, jawline seemingly sharp enough to cut through glass. I itched for his touch, though I would never sacrifice my pride to initiate our contact.

"You're also a psychopathic murderer," I feigned pleasantry, irritation at my own traitorous thoughts making me grow bold, "What did you think I was going to do, drop to my knees and kiss your boots in gratitude after all you've done?"

"Do you think you won't become what I have after an eternity?" he sharply responded, his eyes flashing suddenly and making me flinch, "I see the greed for power, the hunger, the desire, you are already more similar to me than you will ever admit, Alina. This new age is essential to the prosperity of Ravka, these people need a leader who can bring peace and power to the land. You and I will bring the war to an end, for forever." It all made sense when the words left his lips, but the horrid picture of Baghra and Genya, their eyes sunken in a vast pit of darkness, never left my mind. I could never be capable of such cruelty, even for the supposed good of Ravka.

My legs had launched me off the throne before I could even form the thought, desperate to distance myself from him, from his deception and manipulation. From the fact that maybe even the mere proximity to him was changing me, twisting me into the same power hungry immortal he had become.

"Alina." The Darkling let my name roll off his lips in a manner that made me tense.

Possessive. _Hungry_.

All of the things I felt and hated within myself.

He was behind me in a second, his lips brushing against my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck. My body lurched forward, stopping short as he caught my bicep in a viselike grip, preventing me from moving further away.

"We are meant for each other," he rasped, quickly closing back the distance between us. My fingernails sunk into my palms. Slowly, his fingers travelled down the length of my arm, his lips finding the slope of my neck, hovering so close I could feel his breath. The ghost of a feeling, the promise of the overwhelming pleasure that came with his touch made my head fall back against his shoulder in weakness. My breath hitched as his fingers snaked under my kefta, the skin to skin contact sending a shock of electricity through me, he eagerly lifted the heavy silk to expose my bite. The scarring was still dark around the edges, sickly and gray and startlingly unnatural. I shivered. "Breathtaking, what they can do to even the second most powerful Grisha to ever live," he whispered in morbid fascination. His cool touch soothed the insatiable itch as he trailed invisible patterns across my skin, across the mark he had given me. A traitorous sigh filled with my own relief escaped my lips.

"You being the first?" I mumbled practically incoherently, savoring the overwhelming rush of power like a drunk alcoholic.

"Naturally." His movement slowed; I could feel the lean muscle of his body tense.

Suddenly, he released me with a sharp jerk backwards, almost as if I'd burned him. "Go dine with the rest of the Grisha, I have matters to attend to," he ordered softly, something indiscernible in his stare. Almost instantaneously, three guards and Ivan reappeared at the entryway, drawing my attention. My escorts. Bitterness filled my mouth, but I forced myself to swallow it down. He was keeping Mal alive solely for my obedience, and I would do nothing to threaten that, even if that meant enduring a couple of irritating babysitters.

"Thank you for your audience, moi tsar," I tilted my chin down slightly in a ghost of a curtsy.

He allowed a gentle smile to pull at the graceful curve of his lips.

"Moya tsaritsa."

***

The environment in the dinner hall was unbearable at best. I was secluded at the Darkling's ebony table, the guards placed on either side of me hovering overbearingly over my every move. I couldn't help but longingly gaze at the tables of Grisha quietly conversing, the tension and uncomfortableness of the room practically palpable and so, so much worse with no one around me to talk to.

A silent question of conflict weighed over the room, painfully obvious. These were the Grisha that chose the power and security of the Darkling over what was right, over me and Nikolai's side. A twinge of guilt flickered in my chest at my internal condemnation. Genya had been one of them, after all. They all had their reasons, they all felt the pull toward him that even I couldn't seem to resist.

I picked at the herring in front of me in disgust, my heart aching for a familiar face. Nikolai cracking a joke. Tolya and Tamar showing me their latest weapons with concerningly excited explanations. Genya complaining about not letting her fix my sallow cheeks and dark eyes circles. Even Mal, stoic and silent with the occasional crooked smile that could send my heart racing. It all seemed so far away already, especially in the face of the void of eternity that laid ahead of me. I had promised myself to the Darkling, but I knew I still had yet to realize the true cost of potentially being his pawn for centuries of living. My teeth ground together.

Just because I had given myself up didn't mean I had to follow his every order like some sort of trained animal.

I jolted from my chair, ignoring the guards that flanked me as I descended the stairs. Conversation quickly hushed as I promptly sat down within the pool of blue summoners, a stunned silence ensuing as they gaped at me with wide eyes. "Don't mind me," I smiled, knowing it look weary and weak on my features. I picked up a soft bread roll, taking a generous bite of the buttery decadence. "This is much better than rye," I mumbled through my full mouth.

I had been notorious for complaining about the food, and it seemed most of the unfamiliar faces remembered as soft laughter met my ears.

And as if a switch had been flipped, the chatter resumed. Though no one addressed me directly, I got my satisfaction of human contact by smiling and nodding occasionally, quietly soaking all of it in.

After a few minutes of hesitation, I turned to the sandy haired boy beside me, resting my hand on his arm lightly, "Remind me of your name again?"

He startled, almost recoiling before shakily replying, "Luka."

"We sparred together one time, right?" I grinned genuinely, a dim memory surfacing of how he had practically destroyed me in one of my first days training with Botkin.

"Y-yeah, actually," he laughed stiltedly, mouth parting to continue his response immediately cut off when his eyes rolled back in his head.

A gurgling sound rose from his throat, making a gasp of horror fall from my lips as he slumped forwards into me, breaths nothing but faint, strained wheezes. I whirled to see Ivan standing behind us, his hand clenched in a fist, crushing the poor boy's heart.

"Stop, Ivan, stop it!" I practically sobbed, clutching Luka's shoulders in horror as he desperately struggled for air.

"The Darkling's orders were clear, no one is to touch you," Ivan stoically replied, his fist tightening.

"I'm ordering you to stop!" I shouted, causing the room to quiet. Ivan stared at me with dark indecision, eyes obviously conflicted. How much weight did my word actually have? No one defied the Darkling, but what about the Sun Summoner?

Rage rose in a hot wave from the pits of my stomach; my hand lifted involuntarily, warningly glowing with the cold light of the Cut. He took a frightened step back, instantly unclasping his fist. Luka collapsed to the floor, gasping for air and panting wildly, his body twitching with convulsions. A few Corporalki healers in red instantly rushed over to him, passing their hands over his chest to gauge the damage.

Bile rose in my throat as I lowered my hand, the harsh glow from the Cut fading. Destruction and pain seemed to follow me like the plague, even when I was desperately trying to keep the peace.

My cheeks flushed with red at the stares as I practically sprinted from the hall, quickly emerging into the dark, chilly night blanketing the courtyard. Aware of my guards footsteps attempting to follow, I darted to the cover of shadows, proceeding to ascend the spiral staircase leading up to an abandoned terrace. My breaths frosted in the evening air, the cold piercing through my thin kefta with the sting of a fresh nichevo'ya bite.

When I emerged onto the cobbled balcony that ran along the palace wall, my eyes immediately drank in everything beyond it with startling greed. The sprawling collection of villages, the dense forest, the peaks of mountains in the distance, all of it seemed just out of reach, almost as though if I stretched far enough, I could brush the rooftops with my fingertips.

A shiver wracked my thin frame, perpetuating a small, reflexive glow to ignite in the palms of my hands, just warm and bright enough for at least a bit of comfort. I stared vacantly at the shimmering orb, feeling the pulse of power at my fingertips. Had I really done the right thing, or was it really my own blinding greed for the firebird that led me here? Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring my vision.

My whole being ached for the simple life of the Second Army. The sound of pen to parchment filling the mapmaker tent, the feeling of fresh water on my feet after days of trekking through thick mud, Mal constantly bantering and throwing his head back with boisterous laughter. Now it was a million miles away. More, even. I was more trapped and alone than I had ever been since being discovered as the Sun Summoner.

The halo of light at my fingers intensified, making the air shimmer with heat. Bitterness rested on my tongue. If only my tether was connected to Mal instead, I could come to him and at least find out if he was okay. The ache in my chest was startlingly intense. 

All too suddenly, my light was broken through with inky shadows, making me stiffen with surprise as darkness shattered the perfect orb. The light faltered as I dropped my hands, resting them on the cold stone ledge.

"I could kill you right now for disobeying me."

To my own shock, I felt no fear at the words. It was an empty threat by now and we both knew it. "Go ahead, you'll never have a chance to take Ravka without my powers," I kept my voice calm, bored, unbothered. The air seemed to chill even further as the Darkling stepped into my line of vision right beside me, his pale skin almost glowing under the moonlight.

"Well I certainly could do it without that tracker," he mused, his lips puckering slightly. My teeth clenched.

He was mocking me.

My grip tightened around the ledge, fingertips digging into the dulled edges of the cracks in the stone in an attempt to restrain myself. "I needed some fresh air after Ivan almost killed someone on your orders," I cooly responded, feeling the hot anger rise in my throat again at the thought.

"No one is to touch you," he smoothly replied, though when my eyes were finally drawn to him, I could have sworn I saw the ghost of a flicker of jealousy in his eyes.

"It was a sixteen year old boy, is your ego really that fragile?" I spat, my fingernails sinking into my palms.

His mouth twisted, cold anger clouding his expression. "For someone who _willingly_ agreed to be my Queen, you are not accepting that role very graciously, my Alina," he took an intimidating step forward. His tone made me feel as if I was back in Keramzin, just a little orphan girl being scolded by Ana Kuya once again.

Still a foolish girl.

"My bad, I'm so sorry that we're not immediate best buddies after you tortured and killed my friends," I bristled, my response spitefully sarcastic. He visibly considered my words, his head tilting to the side slightly. As much as I loathed myself for it, my eyes flickered to his hard jawline almost on instinct. The pull towards him was still there, it would always be there no matter how much I hated him.

A shaky exhale left my lips when he took a step closer.

"I have told you time and time again Alina, _there are no others like us_ ," he emphasized. His voice was silky, almost as if he was trying to seduce me into believing his words. "The others will come and go like day and night. We will always be there. The sooner you accept it, the less of this juvenile conflict there will be, the less pain you will put this country through." My lips parted before immediately snapping shut, the weight of his words finally hitting me with a staggering blow.

No matter how much I fought, I _would_ watch them all die, one way or another.

I felt unfathomably weak as tears rushed to my eyes for the second time of the night. My lungs felt like they would collapse with the weight of this first real realization, my breaths pained in my chest. A single hot tear escaped, rushing down my cheek before I quickly brushed it away.

A devastated laugh fell from my lips at the Darkling's stunned expression. For quite possibly the first time, he hadn't predicted my reaction and therefore had no practiced response to manipulate me with. "Do you ever feel any emotion?" I venomously muttered, hastily swiping at the wet trails quickly staining my cheeks.

He regarded me impassively. "Crying is a sign of weakness."

I almost throttled him right there. Shaking my head, I moved to turn away, my heart jumping when he captured my wrist in his iron grip, pulling me back to face him. My breath hitched as I looked back up at him in silent apprehension. 

"I will make you strong Alina, then I promise you, you will feel pain no more."


	3. you long for the power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are heating up already, oo child... enjoy ;)

I awoke in the same state as I did the previous morning, cold sweat slithering down the back of my neck like a snake and breaths gasping in my lungs. Even with the obvious morning light struggling to filter through the thick curtains, his room was still dark and cold, weighing in on me despite the vastness of the space. Slowly, my breathing evened, I allowed my gaze to wander around in an attempt the ease the panic thick in the back of my throat. Reluctantly, I had to admit his strange dedication to his aesthetic was somewhat impressive. Everything was a deep, rich black, excluding the occasional golden furniture handle and the dim sparkling stars scattered across the ceiling in emulation of constellations in the night sky.

When my eyes eventually settled back onto the bed, my breath hitched, almost choking on my own inhale at the somewhat alarming observation.

The silken sheets beside me were indented with the vague shape of a human form.

_He had slept with me last night?_

My jaw clenched in stubborn embarrassment at myself. Where else had I expected him to sleep, besides in his own chambers? And even if he had come to bed, it would have been brief, as I had stayed up late into the night tossing and turning with haunted nightmares.

The thought of him laying next to me, his hair messy and his breath soft and even against my ear was enough to make goosebumps scatter across my arms. I had the inexplicable urge to smell the sheets, an instinct I didn't bother to resist, my fingers digging into the silk as I leaned down. I was met with his intoxicating scent, something like a cool breeze in a pine tree forest. Despite myself, I inhaled the smell even deeper, letting it rest on my tongue as my body heated to an uncomfortably warm temperature. 

A strangled noise left my mouth. What the hell was I doing?

This was madness. He was a murderer, a monster. He'd tortured my friends. Yet the pull between us was so strong the mere _smell_ of him made me want to run and find him in this godforsaken palace and let him have all of me.

We had slept in the same bed last night.

It made my skin crawl with something I couldn't quite discern. Most days I had doubted he even needed something as human as sleep, I wasn't even sure he blinked.

I stretched my legs, shifting so my feet brushed the cool wooden floor. It too, was stained an ivory black that melted into the shadows. Reluctantly I forced myself up into a slumped sitting position, my mind straying, as it so often did, to the firebird. Was the Darkling as close as we had been? Or at least we had hoped we had been?

My fingers moved to my bare wrist, my skin itching for the weight of the last amplifier.

No, it didn't just itch, it _ached_ , the overwhelming longing that washed over me almost startling. Maybe this was the very reason why Grisha couldn't possess more than one amplifier, the cravings for power just drove them to eventual insanity.

A shiver slid down my spine.

Hugging my robe tighter around me, I stood up, adjusting to the coldness of the floor before padding across the room to the door. My fingers curled around the handle, pulling on the cool metal. 

It rattled, but remained obstinately shut.

"He locked me in?" My words were incredulous with disbelief.

This had to be some kind of practical joke.

I yanked the ornate golden doorknob again, significantly harder this time. Locked, just as tightly as before. My teeth clenched together. If I didn't have Mal to protect I would have quite easily used the Cut to destroy the door and surprise him, wherever he was, with a hard slap across the face.

But I did have Mal to protect. 

"Ridiculous," I spat, my hands clenching with suppressed anger. I knew what the point of this was. It was a show of power, of dominance.

And, quite obviously, a test for my obedience.

I made my way back over to the bed, crumpling into an undignified heap onto the blankets and promptly smothering myself with the endless supply of pillows while muttering sullen curses.

In time, I felt myself drifting off again, my dreams filled with nothing but visions of the firebird and the dark haired man who intended to find it for me.

***

"What a picture of loveliness you are."

I jolted awake, a sprawling mess, immediately scowling at the Darkling's obviously deeply sarcastic comment. "You locked me in this saints forsaken room for over a day, don't come in expecting me to look like... like _Zoya_ ," I smarted in embarrassed haughtiness, turning over onto my stomach so I wouldn't have to look at him and so I could subtly run my fingers through my matted hair.

"Careful," he murmured, a warning edge to the word. A sharp gasp escaped my lips at the sudden shock of his skin against mine; he traced a slender finger down the back of my exposed leg, his cool touch lingering at my ankle. I pulled my lips into my mouth, calling on every scrap of willpower I had in order to shift my body away from his hand. 

He was terrifyingly silent for a moment as the room fell still. 

"Get ready."

Laconic as ever and straight to the point, I had to give him that.

He hardly wasted another glance at me as he walked to the closet, shifting around my lavish selection of garments before plucking out a fresh velvet kefta that matched the one he currently had on. "What if I don't feel like it?" I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly. I was in no mood to be paraded around, especially after he'd ignored me for the better part of a day.

He arched an elegant eyebrow, studying me openly.

I glared back. 

After a long moment he let out a sigh of mild irritation, a deft flick of his fingers promptly materializing a hoard of thick shadows that pushed me to my feet, making me stumble in surprise. With another wave the shadows enveloped me in a thick haze, whirling and twisting around me for a brief moment, silky as they brushed against my skin, before dissipating. My eyes strayed to the full length mirror in front of me. The kefta has vanished from his arms and was wrapped around me, my hair was shiny and golden once again, twisted and pinned into an elegant bun.

"So you're a Tailor now too?" I failed in my attempt to make my tone casual, the waver in my voice maddeningly apparent.

"I am anything I want to be," he shrugged, pushing open the doors in a somewhat dramatic manner.

_Aren't we like all things?_

I hesitated, the fear that I had suppressed ever since I'd arrived roaring to the surface and consuming me to the point where it was hard to even take a breath. I had no idea what he was truly capable of, I hardly even knew who he _was_. Next thing I knew he would be stopping my heart as well.

He sighed again, his irritation obvious, an unusual occurrence with him. His grip was firm as he curled his fingers around my arm, pulling me into his side and hooking his arm at my waist to keep me secured against him. Immediately I felt the familiar surge of power pulse through my extremities, my whole body relaxing reluctantly into his touch.

"When will you start treating me like your equal rather than your pet?" I scowled.

"When you start acting like it," he responded evenly, pulling me down the hallway at a brisk pace.

We walked in silence as I contemplated his words.

He was right. As much as I hated to admit it. If I wanted to gain his respect and eventually overthrow him, I had to stop thinking like the poor little orphan girl I had always been. I was Grisha, one of the most powerful Grisha in the world, and not even the Darkling could take that away from me.

I straightened my back, tilting my head up decisively as we entered the war room. A sickening swell of pride washed over me at the thought that he deemed me important enough to attend a war meeting.

I shooed the emotion away with my own shame.

The table was already full, save for two seats at the head of the table. Maps and diagrams were plastered to the walls, antique weapons sat gleaming on display.

The room hushed as we strode over to our elaborately decorated chairs; I sunk down into mine hastily under the burning heat of stares. The silence lengthened. I played with the fetter anxiously as the room blanketed with uncomfortable tension, all of us collectively waiting for the Darkling to speak. He seemed to relish it, waiting another long, drawn out moment before breaking the quiet.

"Have we located the otkazat'sya prince?"

I tried not to flinch, my stomach dropping to my feet. Instead I gripped the ornate armrests of my chair, my knuckles whitening. So this is why he brought me, a calculated move as always. He wanted me to know he was looking for Nikolai. Hopefully Nikolai had enough sense to get as far away as he possibly could, though knowing him he would be back before long in a dramatic parade of grandeur.

"Nothing but whispers, moi tsar," an unfamiliar face cleared his throat in discomfort. The Darkling stared at him blankly; I was surprised the poor Grisha didn't wither away.

"Then investigate the whispers," he narrowed his eyes, "I should not have to do your job for you, Christov." The tension was palpable as his words hung in the air. Finally, he shifted his attention, subsequently beginning to discuss war strategy against the Shu and Fjerda. Ivan always seemed to have something to say, and I rolled my eyes as he seemed to give his input on every minute detail in pitiful attempt to somehow garner the Darkling's approval.

I remained purposefully silent as they talked strategy and military and supplies and threats, my mind straying to Mal. Did he miss me? Or was he off somewhere in a bed with Zoya already? The thought made me sick and I pushed it away fervently. Was Nikolai okay? Apparently he hadn't been able to get Baghra out, but he seemed to be doing alright if the Darkling was having difficulty finding him.

"And what of the firebird?"

I immediately snapped to attention, my back stiffening as I straightened. "We may have located the arch in the Ilya Sank'ta," Ivan smugly answered, his lips twisted into a smirk.

"Send a hunting party out at dawn," the Darkling nodded as he stood up, a silent signal that the meeting was over. I wilted at the lack of information. The Grisha scattered, and within seconds we were alone once again.

"Are you close, to the firebird?" I hoarsely inquired, unable to hide my insatiable desire as I stood up tentatively. He took a step towards me, making me retreat backwards.

No, I wasn't going to let this happen.

"Stop." My voice was stronger than I had expected it to be.

He didn't respond.

Another step back.

My back hit the smooth wall, a trill of fear passing through me, making my toes curl in my boots. My body was somehow rendered frozen under his stare as he drank in every inch of me with greedy eyes. Finally, he reached out, his hand cascading down to my hip, his other arm moving to tilt my chin up so I couldn't escape his gaze. 

"Beg for it," he murmured, "Beg for me to find you the firebird. Tell me how much you want it."

I could feel my pride evaporate to nothing as hunger filled my thoughts, chilling whispers hissing encouragement. The feeling of bareness at my wrist was almost painful.

The words left my lips without a second thought. "Please, Darkling, I'm begging you," I breathed, my skin hot and tingling with eagerness. I craved the promise of more power, I longed for it like nothing ever before. Possibly excluding the man standing before me.

His eyes slid shut. 

"Again."

I pushed closer to him, my voice a soft, complacent plea, "Please find it for me, I need the third amplifier. I'll do anything you ask." His eyes peeled open slowly, his silver gaze dark with intensity.

"You long for the power," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over my lips, "I am the power." He was so close I could feel his breath, I could smell the pine trees. My sense was screaming at me. The desire drowned it out easily. I fisted the fabric of his kefta to still my trembling hands.

"I need _you_ ," I begged.

His cold lips were on mine in a second, the power opening between us again, flooding my body and surging through my veins like wildfire. I couldn't stop the soft moan that poured from my lips, my mouth hungry. Hungry for _him_ , as if the taste of him was some sort of addiction.

My back arched off the wall, desperate to get closer, to drink in as much of his touch as I could. His hand moved to my jaw, pulling me closer still. He took my bottom lip in his mouth, leaving a stinging bite that almost made me hiss. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't come up for air, I couldn't get enough of him. It would never be enough. He gripped my thigh, my silks bunching in his grasp as his tongue slid along my lower lip again. I moved my hand to brace myself against his hard, muscular torso, my other hand tangling in his hair.

My heart was slamming inside my chest, I had to stop before I lost all control. I parted my lips to speak, gasping when his tongue entered my mouth without hesitation. Even his previously cold lips were now hot against mine, tasting every inch of me. Claiming me.

It took all of my strength to break myself away, my cheeks flushed and my lips swollen. The Darkling, on the other hand, looked unfazed other than his slightly ruffled dark curls. I recoiled, my hands dropping limply to my sides. I had to be certifiably insane to still want him in this moment.

"The firebird is within our grasp, soon we will be ruling all of Ravka without contention." The untamed desire tangled through his smooth voice, his silver eyes were lit with a cold flame. Soon he would have control over the whole land, he would have what he had been working towards his whole life. But I knew his greed could never be sated, because I felt that same insatiable need. Ravka was only the beginning.

And that scared me more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos 
> 
> tell me what you think, I'm open to everything/I want to know what you guys like!


	4. have the tables turned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the last lil expositional/filler chapter before the more plot driven/action chapters start. yes, I took some creative license with the nichevoya because Leigh literally explains nothing about them in canon. anyways, enjoy! it only gets more INTENSE from here

As the next few weeks wore on, I became an increasingly bitter mess of irritability, continuing to be locked in my room for days on end or paraded around like a trophy. The volcra haunted my dreams every night, Mal being ripped apart in their merciless talons as I helplessly watched. My bags returned from the lack of sleep, as dark and purple as bruises against my pale pallor. I felt powerless, helpless, and utterly useless.

But that was nothing new.

My heavy, lidded eyes struggled to stay open as I made futile attempts to pay attention to yet another diplomacy meeting. Anyone close to the Darkling knew these were all just for show, an amusing game to him that served no greater purpose than to allow him to revel in his own power. Once we obtained the firebird he would rampage through the land, killing anything in his path he deemed a threat to his reign.

Who knew if I could find a way to stop him before that.

I jolted as cold fingers curled around my wrist, his cool, whispered voice betraying a hint of irritation. "Do try to at least act like you aren't falling asleep, Alina."

I flushed slightly, straightening up halfheartedly as the Darkling turned his attention back to the meeting. His grip stayed loose around my arm, the contact forcing me alert with the power flowing through my body in connection with his.

"You've seen the power of the Sun Summoner," the Darkling drawled with boredom, staring down the Fjerdan ambassador with a look of mild distaste.

"But she look so weak." The Fjerdan accent almost made me miss what the ambassador had said, but the disdain in his voice was clear.

The Darkling turned to me. "Show him."

I didn't hesitate. The light shattered the room almost immediately at my call, blinding and radiating with heat as it filled the space. I registered the dim sound of gasps and shouts of awe, but didn't falter, the heat intensifying, the light arcing wider. The Darkling waved his hand as a signal for me to stop, that it was enough, but I found that _I didn't want to stop_.

I focused my attention on the Fjerdan, my eyes narrowing as I started to hone the light into a more concentrated beacon, fingers curling with the physical effort. The air shimmered with heat, pulsing almost as if it was alive. My hand clenched tighter.

"Alina," the Darkling warned, his tone sharp. His iron grip sealed around my arm, fingers digging firmly into my skin just tight enough to bring me back to reality. I paused, savoring the intoxicating feeling for another brief moment before, reluctantly, letting the light fade. I couldn't stop the satisfied smirk from tugging at my lips as I uncurled my hands from their fists. The ambassador, who had been closest to us and the focus of my attention, had clearly gotten the worst of it, his eyebrows singed and blackened and his expression stunned. I roughly pushed away the brief flicker of guilt, he was a _Fjerdan_ , he had probably killed countless Grisha. He didn't deserve my sympathies.

The Darkling stared at me with an intensity that made me shrink under his gaze.

"Leave us."

As with any command made by the Darkling, everyone obeyed as if their life depended on it, scattering almost instantaneously like particularly terrified ants. My skin prickled with discomfort as he studied me expressionlessly.

"What?" I finally snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. He stood up from his throne, his eyes trained on the horizon, out towards the Fold.

"You act as if you are better than me, that I am some monster, yet you are no different," he shrugged casually, as if he were merely commenting on the state of the weather.

"I _am_ different," I argued, shooting up from my chair in anger. Heat flared at my fingertips.

"Tell me you wouldn't have killed him if I hadn't stopped you."

I paused, a wave of realization hitting me with a painful jolt. I might have.

_I wanted to._

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, the irony of it all devastating in its humor.

"You laugh?" he questioned, his quartz eyes carefully curious as he turned to face me, traveling across the planes of my face as if reading me like words on a page.

"You were the merciful one when I was ready to cut him in half," I softly spoke, my mouth sour as I spoke the sobering words aloud. He considered this, his head tilting slightly.

"Merciful," he mused, the word rolling off of his tongue slowly. I wanted to hit him when he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Have the tables turned, Alina?" he moved closer, his breath hitting my lips. Dread filled every fiber of my being. I was becoming him, but _I liked it_.

Something inside me shattered.

I couldn't help myself from falling into him, burying my head into his hard chest. My own greed and selfishness had been manifesting ever since the stag had been sealed around my neck; I just hadn't dared to admit it to myself. I had changed, I craved power like nothing ever before. "What's happening to me?" I choked out, my whole body trembling as he gently wound his arms around my waist.

"The power calls to you like it does to me, like it does to no one else in this world."

If he was surprised that I'd turned to him for comfort, he didn't betray it in his voice. There was no response I could even think to formulate besides the soft whimper that left my lips near uncontrollably. I held onto him like it would somehow keep me from falling apart, my fingers curling into his hair. His lips drifted to my forehead, hovering over my skin as he whispered something unintelligible.

There was only one thing that was clear. I could drown in this moment, or I could rise above the surface and back to reality.

I just didn't know which one I truly wanted anymore.

***

I blew a flustered breath through my lips, flipping back and forth through yet another thick volume of Morozova's journals. The paper was brittle, crackling every time I pressed another page down as I skimmed through it with a quiet fervor. My thumb caught a page that garnered my interest. Squinting, I trailed my fingers over a paragraph of unintelligible black ink. The only words I could make out were 'amplifier' and 'more'. Frustratingly, it seemed as if the scrawls were nothing more than the writings of a madman.

I reclined in my seat, watching the nichevo'ya apprehensively as they aimlessly drifted through the winding shelves of the library.

I had gathered that the Darkling probably kept a hoard of the creatures in here to protect the journals and nothing more, but even now they set me on edge; it felt as if they were watching my every move for an invitation to strike. Every time one passed close by, the bite scarred deep into my shoulder started to burn and itch under my kefta, almost like it felt the nearing presence of merzost.

My eyes flickered up, my body stiffening as one of the dark creatures began to drift near me again, shadows shifting restlessly within its shape. Up close, I could see the yawning abyss where their faces should have been, haunting and horrifying. Averting my eyes back to the leather bound book in front of me, I snapped it shut. There was quite possibly nothing to be gained from slaving over the texts day after day, yet still, I did it. I had to have been going mad.

A heavy weight settled between my shoulder blades, my shoulders slumping. I sat for a long moment, the room silent save for my breath, before my gaze was drawn back to the nichevo'ya. The aching yearning to understand merzost was powerful enough to bring me to my feet, approaching the one nearest to me with slow, hesitant steps. It turned, its shadowy jaws snapping in warning.

Even still, I couldn't stop myself from reaching out, a strange desperation guiding my movements. It hissed, a guttural, skittering sound filling the room.

No amount of warning could have stopped me in that moment.

My hand brushed against where the chest would have been.

I let out a silent scream as shadows suddenly closed in on me in a wild rush, the library fading away in a split second. My heart pounded in my throat, hands shaking as a vivid scene materialized in front of me.

_A boy. Dark hair, troubled grey eyes. Eyes filled with longing as he gazed out at young children playing in a field. I dimly recognized it as Kribirsk. A shadow appeared over him, blocking out the sunlight. I looked up to see Baghra, significantly younger but still cranky as ever. "Aleksander," she hit him in the back of the head, making him wince in pain. "I want to play," he softly spoke, looking up at her with big, pleading eyes. "They will never accept you, and furthermore they are beneath you," she snapped, "You are destined for greatness. Act like it. Now come."_

It was gone as quick as it had come.

My eyes shot open to find myself crumpled on the hard floor, my face clammy with cold sweat and my body trembling.

Had that been a memory? It had to be. Monsters created from painful moments.

I'm sure he had more than lifetime of them.

My whole being was deathly cold, my lips numb, my blood icy in my veins. I didn't even attempt to struggle as darkness closed in, clouding my vision and swallowing me whole.

***

The deep chill is what woke me again.

I struggled to pry open my heavy lids, dimly aware I was tangled in a mess of crisp white sheets. The world remained a dizzying blur, though the smell of rubbing alcohol and sickness filling my nose alerted me to exactly where I must have been.

The infirmary.

"Help," I croaked, feeling blood as my chapped lips cracked painfully, the sharp, coppery taste spilling on my tongue. I felt a hand on my arm, another on my chest just below my collar.

"She's awake! Try it now," an urgent voice commanded. My breath caught in my throat as I felt a horrible, painful draining feeling deep inside my ribs. Like the very life was being sucked out of me.

"S-stop! No!" I screamed, calling upon all of my strength and desperately trying to yank my arms out of their grips. The whole world was a haze, a sea of indistinct shapes and faces. My whole body thrashed, the pain excruciatingly unbearable, searing white light blinding my vision. "Please," I sobbed in resignation.

This was it. This is where I would die.

And then suddenly a cool hand was in mine, squeezing my palm and flooding my body with sureness. I held onto it as if it tethered me to life. The pain receded, fading slowly.

My breaths were heaving in my frail lungs, my eyes finally finding the strength to fully open. I was surrounded by a slew of terrified Healers, their hair singed and wisping with smoke as they stared.

"What's going on?" I whimpered, the echo of the searing pain still lingering in every fiber of my being. A small cry escaped my lips as I looked down to see crawling black lines still in the process of fading from the skin of my arms.

"What did you do." The cool, normally calm voice was now brimming with anger. I tensed as I came to the quick realization that the Darkling was sitting to my left, still grasping my hand tightly. His quartz eyes were ablaze.

"I-," I hesitated, not expecting to feel the wave of shame that washed over me at the admission, "I touched one of the nichevo'ya." He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head as his jaw clenched. A wave of his hand cleared the room.

"What were you thinking, the darkness almost consumed you," he hissed, releasing my hand as he stood up, beginning to pace, "You are intelligent enough to know merzost is not to be meddled with, Alina, what could have possibly compelled you to do so?" My hands pressed against my pounding temples.

"You know why," I whispered, hating myself with every soft word of my confession, "The merzost calls to me."

He paused mid pace, glancing over at me almost mournfully. The look disappeared in a flash.

"So you saw a memory," he stated matter-of-factly, his expression returning to unreadable.

"You and Baghra out in the field," I murmured, picking at my sleeves. A bitter smile twisted his lips as he turned away.

I felt the inexplicable urge to console him, to hold him close and let him find comfort in someone for once in his unfathomably long life. As always, stupid, foolish Alina. And yet despite knowing it was nothing more than wishful thinking, I still couldn't help but see a boy in the place of this man, shaken and filled with pain and almost vulnerable. Shakily, almost embarrassingly so, I swung my legs off the cot, climbing to my feet before making my way over to him with unsteady, hesitant steps.

He wouldn't look at me, even as I stopped directly in front of him. 

"Is your name... is Aleksander your real name?" I questioned softly. He flinched, backing away a few steps like I'd burned him. "Never say that name to me," he growled, the muscles in his jaw tightening. I fell silent, a soft chime of my thoughts pressing me to not push him any further. 

The yawning chasm of pain in his eyes was startling as he finally looked down at me. "Aleksander died many lifetimes ago. I am the Darkling now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no darkles don't worry you're still aleksander I gotchu boo 
> 
> ..feel free to leave a comment/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	5. how's that for petty diplomacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo I kinda lied I decided to add several more scenes to my outline to develop the complexity of the alarkling relationship a little bit more. the first arc of this plot is concerning the firebird, so I promise that will start to come into play around the end of the next, next chapter. also, I finally figured out how to italicize, so its a win for me. enjoy <3

I drank in the fresh, crisp afternoon air, eyes watchful as I silently observed the young Grisha students work on their daily lessons with Baghra by the lake. Childish giggles filled the air as they manipulated water and wind and flesh, making a soft smile pull at the corners of my mouth. They were so young and innocent, so naive to the state of the world.

Hopefully the entirety of their young lives wouldn't be subjected to the devastating effects of war. I would overthrow the Darkling and bring peace to the land without the slaughter of thousands of innocents.

A doubtful voice echoed at the back of my mind.

_What if the Darkling is the key to ending the war? What if he is truly right about everything?_

I scowled, shaking my head at the betrayal of my thoughts. Just because I'd seen him as a sad little boy didn't suddenly erase all of the horrific, unforgivable things he had done. He wanted power, not peace. Nothing more. 

I shoved away the soft chime in the back of my mind that signaled its disagreement.

I stood up, brushing the grass from my clothes as I made my way across the grass to where the class was clustered, smiling in amusement when they all stopped what they were doing, frozen as small, wide eyes staring up at me in something like awe. "Any tips?" I asked lightly, my eyes flickering over to a boy with a gap tooth and an oversized blue kefta that grinned right back.

"Baghra always says to feel connected to everything around you when you summon," he looked over at her for confirmation, to which she exhaled in contempt. She was actively refusing to look at me, her hands gripping tightly at her cane as a perpetual frown turned at his lips. A soft sigh escaped my lips.

"That's a good lesson," I finally nodded in agreement, allowing light glow in my palms before arcing it out effortlessly across the lake. They all gasped in awe.

"They say you're a saint," a little girl squeaked, her eyes wide. I let the light fade, an invisible weight settling heavily on my chest.

"You and I are the same," I assured her, my gaze flickering over them, then to a silent Baghra. Her words echoed in my mind, a sharp hiss of scolding.

 _They will never accept you, furthermore, they are beneath you_.

I would never believe it.

A tug at my kefta made me startle, glancing down to see another girl no older than eight at my side. "Can you make a rainbow?" she eagerly asked, her cheeks dimpling. I couldn't resist the sight of her brown, doe eyes. With a flick of my wrist, I bent the light over the rippling lake water, a soft, wavering rainbow appearing in the bright, crisp air. The act was met with coos of delight.

It faltered as soon as I caught sight of Ivan from across the field, approaching with two armed guards with a less than pleased expression.

"I'll see you little ones later," I promised, quickly twirling on my heels and striding to meet the three men with little enthusiasm, wind blowing up my kefta behind me, lending me a dramatic exit before my newfound company could ruin the class. "Can't I have a minute of peace?" I snapped, not waiting for their answer as they turned, flanking me in my path back toward the palace.

"The Darkling needs to speak with you," Ivan huffed, his fingers twitching as if he was suppressing the urge to hurt me.

I had to resist the urge to jeer in provocation. 

_Go ahead, stop my heart. See where that gets you._

***

"I grow tired of having to round you up like livestock," the Darkling smoothly spoke, his fingers splayed over his mouth in thought as he leaned back against his throne.

"Lock me up then," I suggested flatly, my arms folding tightly over my chest. The oprichniki at his sides seemed tight with tension, anxiousness physically visible at our banter.

"A ball."

I almost did a double take at the prompt, eyes narrowing with poison, "Did you say a _ball_?" He nodded, his eyes twinkling with humor at my caustic reaction. "What happened to the Darkling who couldn't stand all of the petty diplomacy?" I bit out in annoyance. I had had enough of parading me around to last a lifetime.

"Actually, it's a sign of power," he rose from his throne, gaze darkening, "To show that little otkazat'sya prince he is no threat to us." I rolled my eyes.

Knowing Nikolai, he would probably show up to the damn party.

"I'm guessing I have no say in the matter," I arched an eyebrow, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He returned the expression, his lips pressing together like he was suppressing a laugh. I was feeling especially bold today, not the little mouse he was most likely accustomed to.

"You can do anything you'd like, Alina, but I would think in the best interests of your tracker."

A flicker of guilt resounded in my heart. I hadn't thought about Mal in days. Maybe it was too painful, or maybe it was easier to just let him go.

"You know I'll come," I softly mumbled, my resolve broken as my eyes casted down to the ebony marble floors.

"Lovely," he dryly returned, his mood turning as fast as mine had.

"Anything else, _moi tsar_ ," I emphasized, clasping my hands tightly so I could keep myself from running up and strangling him. He was so beautifully frustrating, even when I wanted to rip his stupidly perfect face off, I still felt the pull. The tether. He studied me in that same way he always did, like he was trying to figure me out.

"Dismissed."

A wicked thought emerged from my lips before I could stop myself. With a few steps towards him, I leaned forward, my voice dropping significantly in volume to something akin to a seductive whisper. "Thank you, Aleksander," I curtsied, smirking as, immediately, he stiffened, jaw hardening with tension. Without a second glance, I strode out, satisfaction running warm through my veins that at least I had rattled him.

Alina Starkov wasn't going to be a little orphan pet anymore. She was an equal.

His equal.

***

I sat at the head of the long marbled dinner table, lost in thought as my untouched dinner cooled in front of me, untouched. I didn't have the energy to try and socialize with the other Grisha or even eat at the present, my mind consumed with a million thoughts. The firebird. Mal. Nikolai. The ball. The Darkling. It had been weeks since he had given me any indication of how the hunt for the firebird was progressing. I couldn't discern if it was strategic to keep me in the dark or if they really hadn't made any progress, but either way it was maddening at best. My fingers subconsciously rubbed my bare wrist, the nakedness almost unbearable.

I shifted my focus to the crowded room in a futile act of attempting to distracting myself.

Security had heightened, oprichniki that were on duty blocking every exit. The possibility of escape had never left the back of my mind, but what would it mean for Ravka? For Mal? I couldn't be that selfish. I jumped as I heard the slide of heavy doors opening behind me. The room fell silent.

It could only mean one thing.

"You haven't eaten."

I sighed, my eyes closing in exasperation for a brief moment. "Surely my company isn't that exhausting," the Darkling settled into his chair beside me, his tone dry.

"I can assure you that it is," I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to look at him or down at my herring. A flurry of servants arrived, setting down his dinner as the room became filled with voices once again. My mouth fell open in disbelief as I took in the wide array of delicacies now spread out over the ebony table. "You're have got to be kidding me," I scoffed, practically drooling at the sight of caviar, Chicken Kiev, and garlic rolls. My herring looked especially unappetizing now. He didn't meet my miffed gaze, though I could clearly see the smile curling at his lips as he elegantly cut into his chicken.

"Would you like some, Alina?" he tilted his head, gray eyes filled with mirth.

Slowly, I nodded, suddenly not caring about my pride as my mouth watered with temptation. He broke off a buttery piece of garlic roll, holding it out to me in offering. I moved to grab it, making him pull away. "Uh-uh-uh," he clicked his tongue in a scolding manner, his eyes glinting maliciously.

"Seriously?" I huffed. He tapped his lips in indication. After a moment of irritated hesitation, I let my mouth part slightly, feeling extraordinarily stupid but also extraordinarily hungry enough to comply. His fingers lingered on my lips as he placed the bread on my tongue, cascading down my jawline. "Get away from me," I snapped my mouth closed, swiping his hand off my face. He shook his head with soft laughter, making me flush.

It almost hurt to see him this laid back, teasing me as if we were normal people, not immortal, unfathomably powerful enemies on two opposing sides of a war.

The warm, buttery roll became tasteless in my mouth.

He had to have noticed my expression fall from anger to hollowness because his hand came to a rest on my leg, his thumb stroking across my thigh lightly. "What are you doing," I glared, ignoring that fact that it sent tingles racing across my skin.

"Comforting."

I roughly shoved his hand away, snatching another roll from his dish. "You can't say I didn't try," he mused dryly, spooning caviar into his mouth.

"You act as if you aren't the reason I would need to be comforted."

He wiped his lips elegantly with a gold embroidered napkin, pausing for a moment. "You can make me your villain all you want Alina, it will not change reality. Come to terms with it now or a hundred years from now, it will not matter. We are bound together for life."

***

The day of the ball had come. I had spent the whole wretched morning being pinned for an overly dramatic black gown under the scrutinizing gaze of the Darkling. I could still hear his condescending words. _Take it in a bit more, she's skinny enough for it. Make the train longer, let's just hope she doesn't trip._ It was as if he was trying to aggravate me, to make me feel lesser than I was.

Maybe that was on purpose.

As soon as I had been able to slip out of the fitting room I had wandered to the stables, drifting up and down the aisles filled with beautifully lean stallions.

The earthy smell of hay filled my nose, sunlight filtering through the open doors and bathing the stable in a warm glow. The very definition of a perfect day. I drifted to the black paddock, the ebony stained wood differentiating this particular horse from the rest. I slid my hand over the golden engraved plate.

 _Nohch_. Night.

 _His_ horse.

It was black as coal, it's body shimmering like the silk of his kefta in the afternoon light. I hesitantly raised my hand, cautiously observing as it sniffed me in uncertainty. After a moment of stillness, I laid my palm on its soft nose, moving closer. It towered over me, yet I felt no fear as it pushed its face into my hand , wanting to be pet.

Poor animal, it probably got little to no affection from the ice king himself.

It nickered softly, prompting me to move my fingers behind its ear to give it a good scratch.

"You and I are the same, arent we," I sighed, "Both imprisoned by the Darkling, only let out when it's convenient to him." It blinked in response.

A sudden stroke of rebelliousness made me glance over my shoulder, studying the empty barn with calculating eyes. Quickly unlocking the gate, I weaved my fingers through it's coarse mane, swinging my leg over its back in the most graceful mount I'd ever achieved. Clicking my tongue, I grinned as the stallion neighed in delight, trotting out of the dank barn into the warm sunlight. I pressed my heels into its sides, and before I could even think we were galloping across the open fields, making for the forest running along the west perimeter of the palace grounds. The wind whipped through my hair, stinging my cheeks and making my eyes water, but I found I didn't care in the slightest.

A buoyant laugh bubbled from my lips as I threw my head back. I felt more free than I ever had in the past year. Here I was, riding the Darkling's horse I had stolen from his stables when I was supposed to be in our quarters, getting pruned for a stupid party he had planned.

The act of rebellion, however small, was exhilarating.

Without my guidance, the horse began to slow down, gradually cantering back to a lazy walk as we weaved into the pine trees marking the edge of the forest. I gently rubbed its heaving side, murmuring words of praise despite knowing it couldn't understand me. A firm tug vibrated across the tether that I pointedly ignored. He was looking for me, meaning he knew that I was gone.

 _Ha, let him waste his precious time trying to find me_.

I let Night wander through the dark forest, merely a passenger with no real destination. But after a few quiet minutes, my brow furrowed at the sight of the trees starting to thicken, an unnatural silence blanketing the forest as we progressed farther away from the palace. I allowed a small amount of light to bloom from my hands, pushing away the shadows that seemed to whisper with a mind of their own.

My palms began to grow cold with sweat as I peered through the trees, observing a small clearing up ahead.

Something didn't feel right.

Urging the horse forward with a slight pressure of my heels against its side, I pushed a couple of branches out of the way, my blood turning to ice at what appeared before my eyes as we emerged into the clearing.

It had to be the Darkling's experimenting grounds.

Jagged cuts littered the earth, ranging from the size of my arm to the size of a tree, unearthly and devoid of any light. There likeness shared an uncanny resemblance to miniature Shadow Folds. Products of his path and greed for power. The unnatural quiet made sense now seeing as no living creature would willingly come near the abominations.

My breath caught in my throat as the screams of the volcra echoed dimly in the back of my mind.

Haunting.

"Let's go." My voice wavered as I took one last chilling look before getting out of the forest as fast as I possibly could.

***

"Where were you?" the Darkling snapped as soon as I entered our chambers. "Out seeing the sights," I lofted airily, making his eyes narrow, though he refrained from arguing further. Rather traitorously, my gaze slid along his form, drinking in the sight of him. His black shirt was still partially unbuttoned, his hair messy and unkempt. It was wickedly satisfying to see him look so humanly frazzled, but maddeningly frustrating to the tendrils of greed and lust for him that weaved through every fiber of my being.

He clasped the last few obsidian buttons of his shirt, obscuring my view of the lean, hard muscle of his chest. I tensed as his gaze returned to mine, making me look away quickly and promptly approaching the elaborate gown hanging up by the mirror. My fingers glided over the soft material, light as air.

It was immaculately made, embroidered with diamonds that sparkled like stars in the low light. I turned slightly, unsure if I should sneak to the bathroom or if he would leave to let me change. He was standing in front of the vanity, running his slender fingers through his hair. His kefta was covered in the same delicate diamonds as my dress, dripping with luxury and power. I knew he could feel my eyes on him again.

"I can sense your thoughts, Alina. I hope you don't think I'm devoid of any gentlemanliness."

I flushed, making a smirk curl at his pale lips.

Foolish Alina.

He was gone in a blink.

A flurry of servants came in a rush to replace him, starting to make quick work of transforming me into a more beautiful version of myself. Someone who at least looked the part of the future queen. My heart ached for Genya. She would know just what to say to calm my nerves and set my head on straight.

My thoughts turned dark almost immediately, a sickening shudder passing in a violent tremor through my chest. What did it all matter anyways? In a lifetime I would still be here and everyone I knew would be dead. Except for him. I knew the promise of eternity drew me to him, the promise that I wouldn't be alone. But what would stop me from turning into the person he was, the one that had created the fold?

 _Like calls to like_.

Maybe I was drawn to him because I was destined to be no different.

But I didn't want him. I wanted Mal. I wanted a simple life. I wanted to be normal.

I wanted to believe that's what I wanted.

But I couldn't lie to myself, and I very well couldn't lie to the Darkling either. I wanted the firebird, I wanted the power. And I couldn't give it up anymore.

***

My shoes echoed on the cold marble floors as I was escorted down the hallway by a flurry of servant women. My scalp was on fire where pins had been jammed in my head to keep the complicated twirl of hair they had styled in place, my dress comfortable though a slight measure too tight where they had yanked it closed around my lower back.

The muted sounds of the party in full swing were clearly audible behind the closed doors of the ballroom, light filtering from underneath the threshold in signification of its presence. A shaky exhale left my lips; I dismissed the hoard of serf women with a wave of my hand. The hallway emptied, leaving me in the darkness with my thoughts. 

"You foolish girl."

I almost screamed, light flaring instinctively at my fingertips, illuminating Baghra lurking in the corner, her pale hands clutching her at wooden staff.

My breath hitched.

We were alone for the first time since the Darkling had attacked.

"Baghra," I softly uttered her name, flinching away when she slammed her cane on the marble floor.

"You're foolish," she snapped again, moving towards me to pull at the fabric of my sleeve in disdain.

My reply felt hollow and meaningless even as I said it. "I have to withstand this until I have the firebird, then I can overthrow him." She shook her head, her shadowy, sunken eye sockets still somehow able to convey her disdainful disappointment.

"You should have run Alina, there is no turning back now. You're nothing more than his pawn, dressing up and being paraded around like one of his trophies. You are playing right into his hands, and he will undoubtedly destroy you without you even realizing it."

I gritted my teeth, ready to snap a reply, but in a flash of shadows, she was gone. Her words were sobering yet infuriating at the same time.

_He'll destroy you._

In perfectly unfortunate timing, at that moment I heard the party quiet as my arrival was announced. The miserable smile I plastered on appeared on my lips right as the doors opened in dramatic fashion to reveal their Sun Summoner. I tried not to wilt with shame as the whole room exploded with applause and coos of delight. My eyes met the Darkling's, he was splayed out over his gilded throne. He reeked of power and confidence as he stood up, the crowd parting when he walked through, meeting me halfway across the marbled room.

"The first dance," he held out his hand, "May I have it?"

Baghra’s words rang in my ears. _He’ll destroy you_.

I so desperately wanted to slap his hand away, to humiliate him in front of the expectant crowd. But instead, I took it, savoring the rush of surety it brought me. He pulled me close into his chest, his other arm sliding around my waist. We began to move gracefully in circles as the music started, violins and harps filling the ballroom with a beautiful, soft melody.

I couldn't look at him, instead choosing to settle my gaze at the clasp of his kefta over his collarbone. Somehow my awful dancing skills were masked by his effortless guidance. It felt like I was gliding on ice, the way he led me.

"You look stunning." His words broke me out of my trance, making me finally meet his unreadable stare.

"Flattery. Very political of you."

He arched a brow, spinning me around again so I didn't hit another couple. "When will you realize Alina, I don't lie about everything," he smoothly replied. I could feel my cheeks heating up despite myself, I had to look away from his piercing quartz eyes. Instead I determinedly chose to study the room, taking in the black silk banners emblazoned with his eclipse, the chandeliers dripping with diamonds, the thrones set up to tower over the rest of the crowd. Every step had been taken to convey one resounding message. The Darkling was the king, all powerful and superior to everyone else.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach as quite suddenly he pulled me closer, my chest pressing flush against his. His fingers splayed over the curve of my spine, securing me so that I couldn't escape his grip. My heart was pounding, I could feel every curve in his body, every hard knot of muscle.

"L-let go," I stammered, though I was unable to pull away.

He leaned in closer, his breath cascading over my lips.

"No."

I could feel goosebumps scattering across my skin, a hot feeling building in my chest. My eyes were drawn to his lips, his full, enticing lips. I could feel the heat of the stares of the crowd around us at our intimate position. They wanted a show, and the Darkling was obviously more than prepared to give it to them. A muted scowl twisted my features as I jerked backwards, succeeding in getting him to loosen his grip slightly.

"Does that scare you, being this close?" he questioned, a malicious twinkle in his eye as he suddenly dipped me low to the ground. I didn't have a chance to answer before he lifted me back onto my feet, the hand at my lower back steadying me against him. "The only thing that scares me now is Baghra," I muttered, making him chuckle.

"My mother is a terrifying woman. I mean, she raised me, and I'm a monster." His voice was mockingly playful.

I surprised myself with a pained laugh, shocked that I was still  _able_ to laugh after these months of misery. The corner of his mouth curled slightly in satisfaction.

The song ended.

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully before releasing my waist, brushing his lips over the back of my hand. "Would you like me to send for some champagne?"

I stifled a snort. "How chivalrous." He nodded, that same sly sparkle in his quartz gaze. And then his hand left mine, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness as he promptly disappeared.

Almost immediately, a hoard of dukes and ambassadors swooped in on me from all sides like a pack of wolves. I smiled, fake laughed, and performed small little light tricks like the good little summoner I was, though my mind never strayed from him.

Was he playing mind tricks again? Was he continuing to manipulate me for the naive girl was? He was infuriatingly confusing.

I accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter, pretending to pay attention to a noble boasting about his trip across the Fold. The liquid hardly touched my tongue as I swallowed it in one long drink. I didn't want to think any more, I couldn't take it. My fingertips buzzed with the feeling, warmth spreading through my body. The burn of a stare made me instinctively look up to see the Darkling back on his throne, watching me with a level of intensity and amusement that made my toes curl.

"It's been a pleasure," I cut the duke off mid story, my skirts floating around me in a wave as I turned as quickly as I could. The Darkling studied me as I ascended the few steps, settling onto the throne next to him. "Lovely party," I plucked the glass of champagne that dangled from his hand, downing that one as well. The look of shock on his face was almost comical. He shook his head slightly before waving his fingers lazily to a serve that quickly darted away to grab him a new one.

"How's that for petty diplomacy," he spoke, amusement saturating his voice.

"You're right, it sucks, and I right now I would like nothing more than to go back to our bedroom and pass out."

A sly smirk curved his lips.

"Our bedroom?"

I flushed for the millionth time that night. "Your bedroom, the room I'm sleeping in, whatever you'd like to call it," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. He hummed softly, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter. It was probably a fun little sport to him, to see how easily he could fluster me.

And then we fell into silence. 

A chill set deep in my bones when I noticed shadows started to curl around us after a few minutes, weaving around my body and then disappearing. He didn't appear to notice, as he seemed to be deep into thought, his gaze trained down at the crowds of people enjoying the festivities. The soft crinkle of his brow made him look so young, so... human. My heart ached.

"Another champagne," I requested to my attendant. It seemed to be no more than a couple seconds before the cool glass was placed in my outstretched hand. When Aleksander spoke next, his voice was low and raspy.

"Slow down, or you might end up doing something you regret."

I laughed bitterly, pouring the liquid down my throat without hesitation. "Like kissing you?" I could hear the slight slur to my words, I didn't care.

"I don't think you would regret that," he mused. My eyes narrowed in challenge.

"You don't know what I regret, _Aleksander_."

He stiffened, the playfulness dissipating from his demeanor in a mere second at the mention of his name. We glared at each other for what felt like hours.

"Let's get you back," he darkly commanded, standing up with such authority I couldn't help but comply.

A pang of familiarity resonated in my chest as he shrouded us in a swath of shadows, the same little invisibility trick that he'd used the night of the winter fete. The night everything had changed. My hand was clasped in his, the feeling of security wrapped around me like a blanket. I could dimly tell my actions weren't coherent, but I didn't care. I didn't want to care anymore. I staggered down the corridor, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Alina, walk straight."

I tried to obey his exasperated words to no avail, almost sinking to the floor as I stumbled over my own feet. "For a Grisha, you can't seem to hold your alcohol at all," he sighed, muttering something additional under his breath that was indistinguishable. I gasped audibly as he subsequently slid his arms underneath my legs, lifting me up in one swift movement. Shadows pushed the doors to his quarters open, revealing the dark room. He gently set me down on the silk sheets, causing the world to tilt in a sickening manner. His shadows were cast upon me again, and suddenly my dress was replaced by a silken nightgown.

The world came into sharp focus as I met his stare, something almost gentle in the way he was looking at me. "You know that I'll ruin you," he rasped, a hint of something dark in his voice.

"I don't care," I whispered, hunger consume any rationale I had while sober. He seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering.

I couldn't stop myself.

I grasped his collar, my lips pressing against his without restraint. 

I was on my back in an instant, his body curving perfectly against mine as his lips dragged down my jawline with bruising force. Every fiber of my being strained toward his touch, the pleasure overwhelming as I fell into the gravity of his pull. His mouth was against my neck, his tongue swirling against my hot skin, desperately tasting every inch of exposed skin he could find. My back arched, my hands sliding along the planes of his hard stomach. A moan fell from my lips as he left a hot kiss at the swell of my breast, his fingers sliding over the tie of my silk robe.

"Aleksander," I whispered despite myself, savoring the way his name rolled off my tongue.

He paused, drawing back, his quartz eyes hard and impassive as they met mine.

The silence was deafening.

"And you say I'm the manipulative one." His words were tight, seething.

"Why won't you just let me say your name?" I bit back, knowing that it shouldn't hurt me, that I was in the arms of someone who cared about nothing more than power. Despite it all, I wanted him to trust me with it.

"That is not my name," he dug his fingers into my hips with aching force. I opened my mouth to argue but faltered as he held a hand up. He shifted off the bed, straightening out his slightly rumpled clothing, obviously uninterested in what I had to say. I wanted to scream, I wanted so badly for him to let down his guard. 

The words tumbled from my mouth, traitorous in their desperation. 

"Maybe if you trusted me, we could actually work together."

He shot me a look of steel, "Why, so you can find a way to cut me in half in my sleep that much more easily? You forget I can read your thoughts as easily as I can summon." I reddened. "I don't have time for this," he cut me off before I could reply, "Sleep, Alina." A wave of shadows engulfed me.

I was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	6. nothing is more important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I promise I have solidified the outline and things will start moving faster in coming chapters. I'm just so obsessed with a more day to day alarkling relationship, like their dynamic is so interesting. also, I'm dragging it out a little bit more probably because I'm putting off introducing back in certain *characters* because I hate them but they're essential to the story so ugh. enjoy <3

When I woke up I was painfully alone. The events of the previous night were all a haze of drunken actions; the only thing I knew for certain being that I had royally pissed him off.

My cheeks reddened.

How did I have such little self control that a few glasses of champagne could have me begging for him again like the little pathetic orphan girl I once was? My knees hugged into my chest. I was slowly, spectacularly, falling apart. Baghra's words echoed in the back of my mind, as disdainful and shaming as if she was standing in the room with me. 

_He will undoubtedly destroy you without you even realizing it._

I shook the thought away, fingers roughly rubbing at my swollen eyes as my mind strayed. My chest was hollow, painfully empty, a familiar feeling that always deeply resonated within me whenever the Darkling and I were apart. I was empty enough inside to suspect he had left the castle grounds. Had he left Os Alta without telling me? Cautiously, I tested the tether.

The connection was blocked so strongly it made me startle.

My head was buried in my hands and before I could stop it, the hot tears rushing to my eyes and spilling down my cheeks in an uncontrollable wave of wild, intense emotion.

If the Darkling didn't even want me, I was truly, completely alone in the world.

But furthermore, why did I _want_ him to want me?

My pride was stinging, my self loathing almost unbearable, my longing for someone to lean on so strong it left me breathless. The pain of it all was overwhelming at best, how much I had come to rely on him in such a short time. He wanted all of me, and terrifyingly, I had unknowingly been giving myself to him, piece by piece. My cry was strangled with something like horror. 

A knock on my door almost instantaneously made me quiet my sobs with an iron hand of control I didn't even know I possessed. "No visitors today," I snapped, channeling the pain into wet anger.

An uncertain voice floated from behind the door. "Moya tsaritsa, you have some paperwork-"

"Leave me!" I cut them off with a snarl. My anger quickly faded to guilt at the sound of their steps scurrying away in fear. I didn't even know who I was anymore. Most certainly not the kind orphan girl that dreamed of peace and a quiet life with Mal. Now I had so much darkness and longing and bitterness rooted inside of me it made me sick. I was well aware the Darkling had been the one to plant it there, with increasingly successful results considering the state I was in now. 

I couldn't even bring myself to look at my reflection in the mirror with the knowledge that my bags must have been remarkably dark and my expression excessively miserable. Reluctantly, I forced my body up from the comforts of the bed, trudging to the bathroom with feet dragging across the cold ebony flooring.

Light was filtering through the circular glass window, illuminating the black marble with a dull glow. I grasped the golden handle to the black bathtub, turning it to allow the hot water to spill into the basin. Steam filled the room quickly, turning the air thick and moist. I let the nightrobe I was wearing fall from my shoulders, quickly sliding into the warmth of the bath. My whole body relaxed a fraction at a time as the water enveloped me, caressing my skin with a soft kiss, until finally my eyes settled closed.

With no distraction, my thoughts finally strayed to the person I had so desperately been avoiding thinking about ever since I had awoken.

Mal.

What would he think of me? I swallowed hard. I didn't want to know. I was disgusting, I didn't deserve him, my headstrong, loyal soldier who would have done anything for me. Here I was practically pining over the very person I was supposed to be trying to destroy, the person I had vowed to destroy, the person I had given up _everything_ to destroy. I pulled at the tether again despite myself, running into the same wall of iron.

Humiliating me must have been his specialty.

I sunk deeper into the bath, my shoulders hunching as I sulked.

What a grand, powerful queen I was, pouting in her black marble bathtub.

***

My fists collided roughly against the sand bag hung in front of me, my limbs taught with tension. It swung back lazily, making me dodge and slam my elbow into the side of it. Tiny grains spilled out of the small hole I'd split open, sprinkling onto the packed dirt of the combat training ring. Something felt so easy about coming back here to train, Botkin's harsh words ringing in my ears. _Faster. Harder. Weak little girl, you can do better than that._

My breaths heaved in my chest as I snapped my foot in a kick, ducking then slamming my fist hard against the rough canvas material. Over and over I repeated the drill until my knuckles were raw and blistered, my arms aching and slick with sweat.

"Moya tsaritsa?"

Fear zipped through my veins, I whirled around to see Luka watching me sheepishly. His eyes widened in alarm when he noticed my hands glowing instinctively, ready to use the Cut. "Don't sneak up on me like that," I flashed him a weak smile, unwrapping the tape from my hands and applying a new, thick layer around my knuckles.

"Want to spar?" he offered hesitantly, "I think I've been growing soft since Botkin left." I could help but laugh. Who wouldn't grow soft without him around? I beckoned him forward with a slight nod, "Fine, let's see what you got." He grinned with the cockiness of any sixteen year old boy as he entered the chalked out square; immediately we started to rotate around each other in deliberate circles. He threw the first punch. A confident one. It felt like he was moving in slow motion as I ducked, sweeping my leg underneath him and knocking him to the ground. He looked up at me in shock, dust settling into his clothes. "You've gotten better," he commented, making me snicker as I pulled him to his feet. He lunged forward again without hesitation. I stepped to the side, watching him stumble, almost falling on his face again. Grabbing his arm, I twisted and pinned it behind his back. He grunted in pain. "Okay, I forfeit," he reluctantly relented, prompting me to release him. "Hey, at least you can still say you beat me my first week," I shrugged, making him flash me a playfully sulky look.

I immediately felt it when an intent gaze of someone settled onto us. My eyes flickered up the hill to see Ivan lurking at the top of it, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched.

A sigh escaped my lips. "Maybe you should stay away from me, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for touching me again." My voice was dripping with bitterness. Luka followed my line of sight, his eyes pooling with fear as he noticed Ivan as well. "Uh, y-yeah, it'd probably be best," he backed away cautiously, "I'll see you at dinner, moya tsaritsa." I cringed as he practically sprinted away, leaving me with nothing but my split sand bag for company.

***

Meetings upon meetings. I was drowning in the paperwork that the Darkling normally completed, my days filled with monotonous discussions of diplomacy and strategy. I didn't speak a word in most of them. It felt like my mouth was permanently sculpted into a miserable frown, my bags growing darker and my cheeks becoming hollower every day. I hadn't summoned in two weeks, I hadn't seen the Darkling since he left the week before that. The tether was always blocked, no matter how hard I pulled. "Moya tsaritsa." I looked up sullenly, my gaze piercing through the Grisha who had addressed me. "Would you sign off on the decree that any accomplices to the Lantsov prince will be tried as traitors to Ravka?" My mood darkened.

"Ask your king."

I would slit my own throat before I helped him in any way to find any of my friends. He opened his mouth, hesitating. I arched a brow, daring him to challenge me. He looked down, settling the official papers back on the table. Their conversation resumed. A wave of exhaustion settled over me, my shoulders slumping as I rested my head in my hand. Was this really what life would be like as a ruler? I would guess the Darkling still did all of this even when the King was still in power. It was maddeningly tedious, boring, ordinary. I slid my fingers along the curl of gold patterning on the otherwise black throne. A glimmer of light within the darkness. The Sun Summoner, the supposed balance of the Darkling. My lip curled. It wasn't the Sun Summoner who would be his balance, it was Alina, the merciful orphan girl that was the only hope of keeping him in check. A stroke of realization hit me, almost startling. Just like Alina and the Sun Summoner, the Darkling and Aleksander were like two separate identities to him. One an innocent boy, the other a power hungry immortal.

I stood up abruptly, leaving the war room in a rush. I didn't know what to say, but I had to talk to him. I slammed the doors open to the Darkling's quarters, immediately pulling at the tether. I felt the resistance, but I batted it away, feeling a rush as I broke through.

I was in a dark room, books lining the walls from wood floor to ceiling. The Darkling was at a desk alone, writing in a parchment notebook. I watched intently as he finished scribbling a sentence on the yellowed page, snapping it shut. "Why are you here Alina." He still hadn't looked at me. "You've been gone for weeks," I didn't expect the fiery anger that ignited in my chest, fueling my words, "You blocked the connection, you left me with a mile of paperwork, and you refuse to speak to me. If you can't figure out why I'm here, you might be less intelligent than I thought." He stood up, his eyes dark and brooding as he approached me.

"Well?" I wanted to hit him. His tongue trailed over his bottom lip in thought. "Just say something!" I snapped, irritated with his silence. "What would you like me to say, Alina?" It'd been almost a month since he'd said a word to me, but at this point the silence was better than this frustrating avoidance of any real answers. Something within me broke, the exhaustion washing over me and leaving me limp. "I'm so alone," I whispered, the words hanging in the air, a heavy concession. He reached out, lightly wrapping his fingers around my wrist. The contact sent a jolt through me that made goosebumps scatter across my arms. "You will learn to deal with the loneliness, Alina. I have had centuries of practice." I looked up at him, the beautiful lines of his face looking flawless in the shadows of flickering candlelight.

"I wanted to tell you that I understand, about your name," I looked down, my voice soft. Silence lingered for a brief moment before he responded. "You will understand many things in time, Alina." I frowned slightly. I didn't know what I expected his reply to be, but I wanted more. "What made you change?" I whispered, staring up at him from under my dark lashes. He cocked his head to the side almost mockingly. "We are who we become Alina, you will also change with the years eternity brings you." I gritted my teeth. "I don't want an eternity.” He shook his head, dropping my hand as anger clouded his expression. "Once again, denying your true potential. You act as if it is a curse to rule by my side." I rolled my eyes, folding my arms over my chest. "It's a curse if that means I turn into someone like you." He tilted his head to the side, his eyes trailing my body up and down. "Would you rather have an otkazat'sya life?" I nodded reflexively, though I knew I was lying. He clicked his tongue, "I hate being lied to, Alina." My mind strayed to Mal. I wanted him, but not the life he was destined for.

"The tracker cannot give you what you want."

He had sensed my thoughts again, reading me like the pages of an open book. He took a measured, intimidating step towards me, his anger only barely restrained, "Only I can give you everything, Alina. The power, the throne, the firebird. Everything. We could spend our eternity ruling together, and yet you still pine for the tracker." His words were alluring, tantalizing, despite the anger that accompanied them. I startled as he released me abruptly, striding to the desk and retrieving his book and kefta. "There will come a time when I will be the only thing you have left. Will you still think of the tracker when he is old and married to another, and your puppy love is long forgotten?" I flinched like he had struck me. The thought was horrifying. "Consider that," he cooly spoke, "I will be back in a week. Try to manage for that long."

The connection severed.

***

I could hear the heavy thrum of horse hooves on the cobblestone of the palace courtyard, signaling that the Darkling had returned. I flipped over another finished document onto the growing stack next to me on the desk. If he thought I was going to come out to meet him like some little house wife he was mistaken. We hadn't even attempted to communicate since the day I had reached out to him about a week ago, our mutual anger a silent echo across the connection. I felt empty, my skin had turned a sickly gray as I continued to abstain from using my power. What was it good for if I was living in misery because of it? The feeling I got from it wasn't happiness, it was a greed that could never be sated. Like an addiction. The news that they were growing closer to finding Nikolai didn't help either. Bile rose in my throat as I dared to think what the Darkling would do if he captured him. Genya's fate would probably look like an act of mercy.

If only I could tear down the walls he had up, I could convince him to let it go. In fact, I had to, only vulnerability could possibly make him let go of his stubbornness. If he was determined to become the only thing I had in this world, maybe I would do the same with him.

I shot up from my chair as the door opened, our eyes meeting. He studied me, commenting impassively, "You look awful." I closed the distance between us, snaking my arms around his neck and burying my head into his chest. He stiffened for a split second before his hands came into contact with my waist, hugging me back with a measure of caution. "Please don't leave me like that again," I whispered. Maybe I was projecting, but underneath I knew within myself that I meant it to some degree. I had no one here, no one but him. He didn't respond, just tightened his grip at my waist. Our contact filled the emptiness I had wallowed in for the past month, I felt terrifyingly whole again.

Finally he pulled away, a familiar analytical look in his eye as he studied me. "Have you been summoning at all, Alina?" I bit down on my lower lip, shaking my head. I was well aware that I looked almost as sickly as when I was serving in the First Army. He sighed softly, his hand grasping mine. "Do you remember when I told you that our powers are like the ignition to the flame of our lives? That they make us stronger and lengthen our existence?" I nodded, the memory surfacing with a dull flicker. His tongue trailed over his bottom lip before he smoothly spoke, "If you don't use your powers, the flame dies. You will die." Shock tingled at the tips of my fingers.

"What about Baghra, she doesn't use her powers," I argued instinctively, panic grasping at my lungs. "Why do you think she looks as old as she does? If the women would just start summoning again, she would still have centuries of life to live." I could hear the anger in his words, an echo of what had to have been past arguments with his mother. I swallowed hard, my mouth opening and closing several times. "Alina, I need you to summon right now," he coaxed my hands so my palms were out. I hesitated before calling to the light. My hands remained dark, making my breath catch. Terror seized in my chest. I screamed to it, feeling the power surge from within me, light exploding in a blinding haze, scaldingly hot. It faded quickly as I let go.

"You're losing your control," he observed, his fingers curling around my bare wrist. "You should continue your lessons if you want to have any hope of commanding three amplifiers," he decisively spoke, dropping my hands. "Baghra won't even look at me, let alone teach me again," I mumbled. He turned away, deftly unclasping his kefta and laying it down on the desk. "We'll start tomorrow." I blinked in surprise. "Don't you have more important things to do?" I questioned curiously. A ghost of a smile was on his lips as he looked down at me. "Nothing is more important than you, Alina."

And for once, I could feel the sincerity behind his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	7. the ruler of darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did so much freaking revision on this chapter and I'm still not entirely happy with it, but oh well ;( enjoy, and get ready for the mAJOR DRAMA next chapter hot damn I'm excited for you guys to read it

I stumbled forward, my eyes bleary with the lingering mask of sleep. "Why are we up so early," I complained, eliciting nothing but silence from the Darkling. As usual, he looked immaculate in the early morning light, his pale skin luminescent. I felt a tinge of bitterness. Where was my inherent Grisha beauty and grace? It seemed like I was the only Grisha in existence that consistently looked like a tired raccoon. "Can I eat something at least?" I whined, making him glance back at me, though he didn't miss a step.

"Hunger will help you focus."

I scowled, my fingernails digging into my palms in irritation. Crisp morning air washed over my skin as we emerged from the grand hallway to the courtyard. It was slightly warmer than yesterday, I could tell spring was nearing. "This way," he murmured so softly I almost didn't hear. I followed him hesitantly past the dinner hall to the fields by the lake. The water was glittering in the morning light, soft waves rippling across the surface. I twisted my fingers as he slowed to a stop, surveying the area before nodding in satisfaction. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable before he brought his hands together with a crack of thunder, darkness enveloping us and our surroundings in a mere second. I panicked, clawing out in the darkness for him. My hand barely brushed his arm before I felt him pull away. His cool voice broke through the darkness, "Now cut down those trees."

"I can't see anything!"

He made a scoffing noise. "Aren't we like all things Alina? Do you understand the true weight of that? You don't need to see the tree, you become the tree." Swallowing hard, I attempted to calm myself, closing my eyes and reaching out with my mind. _Aren't we like all things?_ I extended my consciousness, feeling for the presence of everything around me. I could hear the lapping of water, smell the pine, feel the soft brush of grass. My hand trembled as I raised it.

 _Cut the trees_. Soft light flowed from my fingertips, barely strong enough to avoid being swallowed by the shadows. "Extend your reach, feel the forest." I let out a shaky breath, pushing forward the boundaries of my consciousness. I could feel it, every crisp pine needle against the curve of damp bark. I tensed, bringing down my arm in a wide arc. Immediately a resounding crack boomed, reverberating in my ears. "Good, Alina." In a second wave of my own fear, the darkness suddenly felt like it was closing in on me, suffocating me in its icy grip. A panic seized my chest, my vision flashing with haunting memories of volcra.

"Darkling," I cried out, my breaths wild in my lungs. I desperately stumbled through the darkness, whirling around in circles as I attempted to come in contact with him. His arms were around me in a moment, enveloping me in the intoxicating feeling of his strength and security. "What are you afraid of, Alina," he whispered, his voice silky. I desperately wished I could see his expression. "What hides in the darkness," I trembled. It was the truth, I couldn't lie. Especially not to him. I let out a shaky breath as his soft fingers cascaded down my cheek, sliding underneath my chin.

"Only the ruler of darkness can protect you from its horrors."

The words sent a chill down my spine. I could feel the heat of his body, but my straining eyes still couldn't make out the edges of his form in the pitch blackness. His lips were hovering over mine, that much I could feel. He was a millimeter away. Just a millimeter closer and we would be touching. Conflict tore at every fiber of my being. I shifted forward, a painfully small increment, but it was enough. I could feel the curve of a smile on his lips as they moved against mine, his hand resting on my back securely as he pulled me closer. My tongue was sliding along his lower lip, eager and desperate and greedy for him after being starved of his touch for so long. A soft moan fell from my lips as he allowed me entrance, his taste making my eyes roll back with pleasure. He bit down gently on my lower lip, pulling it into his mouth. My fingernails dug into his skin as he increased the pressure at my back.

Control was a laughable notion. The feeling of completely letting myself succumb to his power was exhilarating. It felt right, despite my brain screaming at me that it was terribly wrong. My eyes fluttered open as he let out a soft growl before abruptly pulling away. I was looking into his quartz eyes, the darkness had dissipated. "Look what you can accomplish," he nodded in the direction of the forest. I didn't even have the capacity to feel the shame of kissing him as I turned around. The whole forest, as far as I could see, was flattened. My fingertips buzzed. "I did that," I murmured, looking up at him.

I hated myself, but the words slipped out. "We make a good team." A half smile pulled at his lips. "We do."

Though my plan was working, I wasn't so sure it wasn't destroying my own resolve in the process. I stared out at the forest again, contemplating. Power was a compelling tool, but my compassion and mercy had to prevail over my thirst to rule.

Before it became unquenchable.

***

It was the little things, the slight lean into him, the occasional murmur, that slowly let me gain some semblance of his trust. It was precarious, to restrain myself from doing anything but agreeing with him. There was no doubt he was suspicious of my sudden change in behavior, he constantly attempted to provoke me with mentions of Nikolai and Mal. But when it all fell away, I desperately held onto the conviction that it would all be worth it. And though I was supposed to be the one taking advantage of him, I could feel a change in myself as well. I liked him. Not the Darkling, the power hungry dictator that drove me insane, but the glimpses, though few and far between, of the man that was left underneath when he wasn't putting on his constant show of power. I wanted to think that I could be changing him, but it could also easily be him manipulating me yet again.

My eyes slid over to him. He was sitting back on his throne, his eyes deep in thought as he listened to a flustered Grisha explaining their lack of progress on locating the firebird. As anyone would likely admit, the throne suited him. He felt my eyes on him, his gaze shifting to meet mine. He arched a brow in playful challenge, his chin resting in his hand lazily. I could almost hear his response. _Staring again, Alina?_

I rolled my eyes, looking away and back at the intricate, three dimensional map of Ravka splayed out over the obsidian table. There were markers and flags and other various symbols, most of which indicated a sign of either the Firebird or Nikolai. They were closing in on Nikolai, and every day I desperately wished I had a way of contacting him. "So you are saying we have reached another dead end." My teeth latched onto my lower lip as the Darkling's cool voice caught my attention. "Y-yes, moi tsar." His eyes blazed with hot anger, darkening into a cloudy, thunderstorm gray. A rare moment that he lost his temper, one that any would pray not to be on the receiving end of. He reached out suddenly, an inky tendril of shadow appearing and curling around the Grisha's neck. My breath caught as the Darkling's fingers slowly curled into a fist, the shadow coiling tighter and tighter.

"I grow tired of this incompetence."

The whole room was silent. I didn't even dare to breathe. "I said do whatever it takes to capture that godforsaken creature. Did I not?" The room collectively nodded almost violently. I felt my body tense with anxiousness as the Grisha began to suffocate, clawing at the darkness. "Stop," I whispered, my panic growing. He flexed his fingers, ignoring me as the coil tightened even further. "Let him go," I grabbed for his arm desperately, "You're killing him, please!" Finally he looked back at me, his lips twisted into a cold sneer. "Did you not beg for me to find you the firebird Alina? This is what it takes. They are lazy and incompetent, apparently they need the incentive of their lives to find it." My hand gripped his sleeve, my fingertips alighting instinctively. What could I do to stop him?

"Please," I pleaded, my voice soft. I could see him considering. The Grisha was purple, his head tilted back as he struggled. Finally, after an agonizing second, he uncurled his fist. The Grisha dropped to the floor, gasping and choking for air, his whole body shaking. "Let that be a warning," the Darkling calmly spoke like he hadn't just almost murdered someone, "If I give you a task, you will not rest until it is completed to my satisfaction." That seemed to be his dismissal. The other Grisha helped the injured Corporalki, guiding him into his feet and out the door. I scowled as Ivan approached us, bowing low to the Darkling in respect. "If I may, moi tsar, I have a suggestion for the hunting party," he smirked smugly. "Well, spit it out, Ivan," the Darkling coolly snapped. "Maybe it would be an idea best discussed in private,” Ivan eyed me in pointed distaste. I narrowed my eyes, wishing I could melt him into a puddle. "Alina, meet me by the lake in an hour," the Darkling stood up. I scoffed, meeting his gaze. We stared each other down, my glare piercing into his stony gaze. "Have fun with your little lap dog," I seethed, my skirts twirling as I whipped around, stalking away.

***

I had been laying in the grass for close to an hour when he finally arrived. My eyes were closed but I could feel his presence as he towered over me. "Enjoying yourself?" he cooly asked. The grass was soft against my skin, the sun was warm and birds were singing brightly. I nodded, still refusing to open my eyes. "I have meetings to go to Alina, get up so we can start." I laughed softly, my eyes fluttering open. "What happened to me being the most important thing to you?" I questioned sweetly, propping myself up on my elbows. "Alina, just get up," he sighed in exasperation. There was a pause of silence before he added reluctantly, "Please." I giggled, the idea that the most powerful Grisha in the world had just used the word "please" was wildly amusing. Purposefully slowly I climbed to my feet, brushing myself off before tilting my head to the side, "Happy?"

He flashed me an irritated look. I could tell my overly cheery disposition annoyed him, which was insanely satisfying. Even if I couldn't outright defy him, being a pain in his ass still felt like a small victory. 

"Attack me," he finally prompted simply. I studied him, the confidence draining from my body, quickly replaced by overwhelming uncertainty. "I- No, I can't," I curled my fingers in hesitation. "Are you afraid? Or are you just weak?" he goaded, his eyes glinting.

I gritted my teeth.

I was entirely sick of people calling me weak.

My hand burned with white hot light as I raised it, arcing it in the Cut. He deflected it with a wave of shadows. I let the light explode from my fingers, honing it into a scalding hot beam. He lazily cast a hazy shield of darkness that absorbed the light easily. His shadows shot from his fingertips, wrapping around my wrists and tightening like rope. I desperately cast small blasts of light in an effort to free myself, but he jerked me toward him, making my aim go wild. "That's it, _Sankta_?" he mockingly spoke, his shadows sliding across my skin. "How am I supposed to fight you when I don't even know half of the things you know?" I argued, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. He released me, making me stumble. "Return to your studies, Alina," he ordered, "You have much more to learn. And you will learn it in time." My mouth filled with bitterness. This was obviously another calculated, purposeful display to demonstrate to me yet again that I was helpless compared to him and his power. My jaw clenched. It was infuriating that he had an eternity's head start on me. "If we find the firebird, will I be as powerful as you?" I asked quietly, perpetuating a raspy chuckle. "I am a living amplifier Alina, no one will ever be as powerful as me," he promised, his voice confident.

I believed him. And that filled my chest with despair.

***

Exhaustion permeated every inch of my limbs as I lay splayed out on the bed, entirely too tired to move. I had been staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, memorizing the constellations that were detailed in sparkling diamonds. Though I was tired, I couldn't seem to keep my eyes closed, my thoughts turning relentlessly in my mind. I had spent the whole afternoon pouring over books, studying various tricks and skills the Darkling had used time and time again. Subsequently, I had spent all evening trying to perform them, sometimes with success but mostly to no avail. I had summoned more in one day than in the past month, and my body was paying the price for it.

My breathing hitched as I heard the doorknob turn. I snapped my eyes shut, curling myself up slightly to appear that I was asleep. The door pushed open with a soft click, footsteps filling the otherwise silent room. I cracked one eye open slightly, following the Darkling's dark frame as he crossed the room to his lavish dresser, unclasping his kefta and draping it over the top of the wood. His hand drifted to the back of his neck, rubbing it for a brief moment. Finally, his fingers curled around the collar of his shirt, smoothly pulling it off. I bit my lip as he threw it back in the appropriate drawer, his back flexing with muscle. My cheeks flushed, I turned away as he finished changing, letting my eyes close again. I could feel his gaze on me as he crossed to the opposite side of the bed. The covers pulled back, making goosebumps rise on my legs as my bare skin was exposed. My heart was pounding. I had never been awake before when he had come to sleep with me.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?"

My pulse almost skipped a beat. I'd been caught. I reluctantly opened my eyes, looking over at him. I forced myself to shrug in a casual manner, "Just thinking about a lot of things." His lips twisted slightly into a half smile. "Like what?" I shrugged again, too embarrassed to mention my day full of epic strings of failure. He studied me blankly, waiting, expectant. I sat up, pulling my lips into my mouth as I contemplated. Here was my chance to take another step in gaining his trust.

"About you," I softly spoke, making that half smile deepen. "What about me?" His tone was almost playful, but his eyes were teeming with an intense curiosity. "How you confuse me." I was careful to keep my words soft, sweet, timid. "I'm quite mysterious, I have been told," he mused. My chest ached. Conversation was so easy with him, even when I was pretending. I shifted closer. I could see the brief flicker of surprise flash in his eyes before it promptly disappeared. "I want to know you like no one else does," I whispered, knowing the weight behind my words was at least partially true. "Alina," he warned as I leaned forward. "Aleksander," I tilted my head up.

His eyes closed, the conflict clear in his face. There was a long pause.

"Again," he husked like it was a concession.

Satisfaction tingled across my skin. "You confuse me, Aleksander." The air was hot, the tension almost palpable as his eyes slid open. He was hovering over me in a second, my back hitting the pillows. "I'd have you saying my name all night," he silkily spoke, implying something that made my cheeks hot. "You like when I say your name now?" I questioned softly, barely able to finish my sentence as his lips drifted against mine.

"Do you like it when I say your name like this, _Alina_?" My toes curled at the way my name rolled off his tongue. Possessive, sexual, like I was his and no one else's. He smirked slightly at my reaction. "There you go again, being mysterious and answering my question with another question," I breathlessly said, entirely too absorbed with where his body was pressed against mine. He chuckled, a raspy, pleasing sound that filled my body. His gaze softened slightly as I looked into his entrancing eyes. My heart fluttered as he leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss. His mouth was soft, like silk. Yet another aspect of his perfection that rendered me speechless. I almost sighed in disappointment as he pulled away, moving to his side of the bed.

His mind had sobered, his eyes shuttered from any sort of emotion that might have been there before. "Goodnight, Alina." A wave of his hand snuffed out all of the lights, plunging us into darkness. I turned on my side, my heart in my throat as I tried to calm my labored breaths. I was doing what I felt I had to do, but was it despicable that I enjoyed feeling close to him? When it came down to it, he was a heartless murderer and I had to find a way of stopping him. There was no other option. And yet a small part of me questioned it all.

What if there was another way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	8. why do hearts turn cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is time, my friends
> 
> enjoy <3

"Again! Again!"

I laughed lightly as the Grisha children cheered for me, promptly waving my hand and casting another explosion of light that looked like glitter against the bright blue sky. The gap toothed girl who I had come to learn was named Sasha pulled on my kefta, making me lean down so I was level with her stature. She grasped my hand, squeezing it tightly, "Teach me, Sankta, I want to be like you!" I sighed, feeling an invisible weight settle into my shoulders. Her words were a stark reminder that, in fact, there would never be another like me, I was alone in the world with the power of the sun cradled in my hands. "You control the wind, that is way cooler," I tapped her nose, making her grin with pride in response to my mournful smile.

"You think so?" she lisped, her missing teeth inhibiting her speech just enough to be noticeable. I nodded, beckoning her to show me. Her eyes widened, her teeth sinking into her lip as she concentrated. I watched in amusement as she extended her hands, a light wind curling under a fallen leaf and spinning it in a few wide, lazy circles through the air before it floated back down. "See? Much cooler," I smiled, making her giggle. "Anyone else want to show me something?" I asked brightly. I was immediately bombarded with a wave of adorable children, pulling at my clothes to get my attention. They showed me their favorite tricks, and in turn I cooed in delight, complimenting each one. Baghra had taught them well, I was truly surprised at the level of control they had at such a young age.

I felt the smile gradually fade from my lips. If I had become Grisha all those years ago, where would I be now? My power and control would probably be near perfect with the addition of the amplifiers. But what would that have turned me into? I knew the answer myself before I even formulated the thought. The Darkling's little lapdog, yet another submissive Grisha craving his attention. My eyes flickered back to a little Fabrikator boy who was offering me a crude replica of the collar around my neck. "For you," he shyly offered it to me, ducking his head. I gently took it from his tiny fingers, turning it over in my palm with a halfhearted smile.

"It's beautiful, thank you."

The words tasted bitter. 

Instinctively, I looked over at Baghra, who had kept in her tradition of refusing to say a word when I attended their lessons. I wished I knew what words to say to her. A silent Baghra was most definitely worse than a Baghra that would ridicule you at every turn. "Back to work, this is a foolish waste of time," she snapped, leaning heavily against her staff. "I'll see you all later," I smiled weakly, knowing it was my cue to leave, whether she had directly addressed me or not. They waved collectively as I walked away, my whole body feeling heavy and burdensome.

I stiffened as I felt a slight tug on the tether, a feeling that hummed through every fiber of my being. He wanted me to come to him. Irritation pricked at my fingertips at being summoned like a dog. Reluctantly I made my way through the courtyard, taking my time as I walked along the cobblestone path. When I'd first arrived, he told me he thought the palace was hideous, and since then, he had made a point of redecorating to his taste. The majority of the buildings had been cast in black, gold detailing spiraling along the grand curved roofs and spires. Gone were the gaudy statues and jewel encrusted walls, the only ornamentation being his symbol that was plastered everywhere one looked. I ran my hands through my curled hair, twisting a strand through my fingers as I strode through the open doors into the palace.

I could feel that something wasn't right, there was a tension in the air.

My steps echoed on the marble flooring newly emblazoned with his eclipse. I could hear his smooth voice as I ascended the grand staircase, pulling up my skirt so I wouldn't trip. "There you are, Alina." I flashed him a ghost of a smile, unsure of how I should respond. A quick, subtle scan of the room indicted we were alone. "You called me, Aleksander, what's going on?" I asked cautiously. His name felt right on my tongue, and he didn't question my use. He silently beckoned me to join him at the balcony overlooking the entrance to the palace. I sighed, moving to stand next to him. My body instinctively leaned forward against the solid gold railing, I raised my eyebrows in question, tilting my head up so I could evaluate his brooding expression. "What's going on?" I asked again, my tone sharpening. His gaze snapped to me, his arm shooting out to grasp my waist, making me let out a gasp of shock as he pulled me into the hard curve of his body. His other hand curled around mine, placing it against the hard muscle of his chest. He leaned in close, and for a terrifyingly thrilling second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, his mouth found the shell of my ear, his words like ice and his silver eyes like steel. "Look at him, and he dies." I didn't even have time to ask what the hell he was talking about before the grand palace doors were thrown open.

My knees almost buckled with horror as a voice came echoing into the grand entryway.

Mal's voice.

The Darkling kept me on my feet, pressing my body into his as his gaze pierced mine. He was almost daring me to disobey him. "Let me go, get off!" Mal snapped, I could hear the sounds of struggle as he fought. Every part of me was screaming. "Alina?" I heard his desperate voice as he most likely caught sight of me up on the balcony. I almost sobbed, my lower lip trembling. "Kiss me," the Darkling ordered softly, his hand curling around my jaw. I couldn't move, my body was frozen. "Kiss me, or I'll cut him in half right here," he murmured, his hand sliding across my back. I leaned forward, my mouth meeting his. The rush of power was nothing compared to the despair that was tearing at my chest.

"Alina!" I could barely stand the sound of his agonized screams as they dragged him away, presumably to the dungeons. The Darkling's lips lingered on mine before he let me pull away. Angry tears immediately filled my eyes, I shoved him off of me as hard as I possibly could. "You promised, you bastard!" I screamed in rage, my hand moving of its own accord in blind rage, slamming down in the familiar motion of the Cut. He deflected it, barely, immediately a rush of nichevo'ya coming to his calling. My arm arced viciously down over and over, destroying each new monstrous shadow that protected him, but there was a seemingly endless hoard of the creatures at his disposal. "Stop Alina." His smooth voice sliced through my heart. He hadn't changed, he was worse, a murderer, a monster. My body began to fatigue, my Cuts growing weaker and less accurate. I hadn't realized he had been closing the distance between us until his hands shot out, seizing my wrists in his iron grip. The sobs tore at my throat, distorting my speech as I hurled insults at him. "I trusted you," I spat, trying to punch him, hit him, anything. None of my attempted blows came anywhere near him, he was too strong. "I hate you, I hate you so much, you're a monster," I cried as my anger started to fade, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

"He is here to find the firebird, I will release him afterwards, Alina."

The words shocked me, stilling my attempts to hit him. Let him go? He would never. "How do you expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?" I spat. His eyes held an emotion that I hadn't seen before. Remorse, maybe? "I give you my word Alina. He will go free, unharmed, but only if you cooperate." My breaths shuddered in my chest, sharp and painful. "Can I see him?" I pleaded, my fingers curling around his shirt. 

The Darkling would never say yes. "Please, Aleksander, I just want to make sure he's okay," I begged, any pride I had falling away. He held my gaze as he contemplated, devoid of any emotion. I stiffened when he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"Go," he icily commanded, releasing me.

***

"Open the door," I spat to the guards. They glanced at each other, uncertain. "Now," I seethed, raising a glowing hand in warning. Immediately one unlocked the heavy iron door, pulling it open with an awful sound of screeching metal. They hastily stepped aside as I practically threw myself on Mal, who was collapsed in an undignified heap against the stone wall. He was stiff, only half returning my embrace with callused fingers. "He made me do it Mal, to make you mad, he would have killed you," I mumbled almost incoherently through my tears. I pulled away, placing my hand on his warm cheek. His eye was swollen and purple, his lip split and oozing with blood. I wilted slightly at the emptiness in his gaze.

"You're wearing black," he hoarsely observed, an acrid bitterness to the words. I ripped the kefta from my neck, letting it settle into a pile on the ground. "I hate black, I hate him. I missed you so much Mal, it's horrible here, I wish we could just run away to the ends of the earth and be happy," I spoke so fast I wasn't even sure if he could tell what I was saying. He paused, his eyes pooling with regret. "I missed you too Alina," he finally spoke, squeezing my hand that was desperately clutching onto his. It felt like a dream, like he would evaporate from my grip any second.

A deep cough wracked his chest, his body hunching over in pain. When he wiped his lips on his arm, there were streaks of dark blood. "What happened? What did they do to you?" I heard my voice tremble. He flashed me a weak smile, a glint of humor in his eyes, "Just crushed my heart a little. No big deal." I whirled around, snapping to the guards, "Get me a Healer. Now." I turned back to him, holding onto him tighter as I tried to rememorize every detail of his rugged face. "Have you been in contact with Nikolai?" I softly whispered. He hesitated, then tilted his head forward in a slight nod. "He wants to come for you Alina, set you free." The thought was achingly bittersweet. I desperately wished that was a viable way out, but I couldn't run from the Darkling forever. And I had an eternity to run from him. "I don't know what to do, I can't let people keep dying for me." My voice cracked, shame filling up my insides to the brim. Ravkans were sacrificing their lives while I was in the palace snuggled up with our enemy in a grand silk bed.

Some leader.

He studied me, pain and pure love swirling in his brown eyes. "I love you," he whispered it like a promise. "I love you too." Mine sounded more like an acceptance of defeat. His hand tangled in my hair as he weakly pulled me into him, his lips meeting mine in a desperate kiss. I could feel the love and passion that filled his mouth, but I could also recognize the emptiness of the lack of connection that always surged between me and the Darkling when we touched. Mal was otkazat'sya, the Darkling was an all powerful Grisha. _Like calls to like._ And yet I still loved Mal, with all of my heart. I could recognize what I felt for the Darkling wasn't love, it was an echo of that. Lust, greed, desire. I pulled away as the Healer entered, kneeling next to Mal and passing her arms over his chest. "I'll be back later," I promised, my hand lingering in his before I stood up. Every step away from him was like a stab to my beating heart.

***

A cloud of anger clung to my body as I sat next to him at dinner. I pretended like he didn't exist, and in turn he hadn't tried to utter a single word to me. Unease weighed on the room, everyone could feel the conflict between me and the Darkling. Every bite of food tasted like sawdust on my tongue, my thoughts never leaving Mal. He was probably still chained to the wall, cold, beaten, and helpless. I had allowed that to happen. I stabbed my fork extra hard into my chicken, making the Darkling's body turn with the loud noise. From my peripheral vision I could see him studying, analyzing, but for once he looked unsure of himself. I stood up before he could open his mouth to speak, pushing my chair back in stiffly. "Alina," he rose to his feet, catching my arm as I turned away. It happened so quickly I almost didn't believe myself.

I slapped him across the face. Hard.

The room went silent, an awed, horrified quiet blanketing the dinner hall. "You're blinded by him." His voice was brimming with anger, his stare icy. My hand was stinging, but I was tempted to hit him again. This time he caught my arm halfway through its arc, holding it there above my head. His fingers dug into my skin as I struggled. "He was to go free," I finally snarled, "That was the terms. He was supposed to be untouched."

"You wanted the firebird, this is how we will find it." He was calmer now, condescending even. "I don't care, you were supposed to stay the hell away from him." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You said you would do anything, whatever it takes," he reminded me coldly. I bit down on my lip. That much was true. Shaking my head slightly, I turned away, ripping my arm from his grasp. I passed through the double doors of the throne room, feeling him following close behind.

"Leave me alone Aleksander," I snapped, refusing to look back. "I'm doing this for you Alina, so we can rule as equals," he asserted, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You don't want me to be your equal." My laugh was bitter, venomous as I turned around. He would always want to control me, to be one step above. After all, it was his crest and banner that adorned every wall in Os Alta. "I have waited hundreds of years to find you, Alina. You realize I will never let you go, especially not just so you can go play house for your little tracker." The words rang true. He would never let me go, I felt it in the depths of my soul. "And you realize I will spend every minute of our damned eternity fighting you if any harm comes to him at your hand," I returned. His eyes drifted along my body, tracing the curve of my neck before settling back on my heated glare. "Why do you love him," he flatly questioned, stepping closer so he was towering over me. I cursed my height, knowing I was less than intimidating when I was staring up at him.

"Because he has a heart."

His jaw muscles flexed for a split second before relaxing again. He took my hand, making me tense as he placed it over the left side of his chest. I didn't know why I felt surprise as I immediately felt his soft, steady pulse underneath my palm. "I have a heart, though it may be filled with darkness," he curled his hand over mine. I couldn't deny what I felt as I looked up at him. A sincerity that I hadn't ever experienced coming from his lips. "And all your _heart_ cares about is power, I'm just a pawn. We all are," I pressed my lips together at the traitorous feeling of my skin tingling in response to his touch.

"You think I haven't ever felt the loneliness you feel now? Why do you think hearts turn cold, Alina?"

There it was. An admission of humanity, or vulnerability, or something in between. He'd managed to avoid it for so long it shocked me hearing it now. But I didn't _want_ to hear it anymore. "You can spare me of your sob story, I'm going to see Mal." The words were cruel even to my own ears. His demeanor changed in a split second. His shoulders straightened, his eyes hardened, the mask descending over his sculpted features. "I expect your cooperation Alina, or he will die," he turned away, looking back over his shoulder briefly, "I am not known for my mercy. Keep that in mind as you run to be by the otkazat'sya's side." It was a warning, a threat. He vanished into the shadows.

***

"I brought you food." My voice was soft and timid. Mal looked up at me, his face weary with defeat. I knelt down, sitting next to him on the stone floor and offering him the garlic roll. He stared down at it, his movements slow and pained as he accepted rather reluctantly. "He won't hurt you, I made sure of it," I placed my hand on his arm. He was warm, feverish even. "How the tables have turned," he laughed bitterly, "I was supposed to protect you Alina, and now because of me you're under the control of that... that _thing_." A chill slid down my spine as the Darkling's same exact words echoed in the back of my mind.

 _How the tables have turned_.

The same sense of shame overcame me. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way, but I thought this had been the right decision. To protect Mal, to save Ravka. "When I have the firebird, I can beat him," I spoke, but even to myself the words seemed unconvincing and hollow. "I love you Alina, but I'm afraid you're not strong enough." He was looking directly into my eyes now, a rawness to his words. I could feel myself crumbling under his gaze. "I am strong," I faltered as my voice cracked. My eyes sunk to the ground. I swallowed hard as he took my hands in his.

"Alina, you said yourself, there's no one else like either of you. You think you can balance him, but he could just as easily drag you down into the darkness with him."

I knew he was right. _He was right_. So why did I still want to push him off of me, scream that he was wrong, that I could change him into something better or otherwise overthrow him when I was stronger. "I see good in him, there's still humanity that I could salvage," I whispered. The cell fell silent. "Look at me Alina," he squeezed my hands tightly. I struggled to lift my heavy gaze. His ice blue eyes were filled with the despair I felt. "I love you Alina, but he will consume you. Please, let me take you away. We can win this war without you here." I wanted to say yes so badly. But what if we were caught? He would die at the hands of Aleksander, and I would have to live with the guilt for the rest of eternity.

"Your life is of more value to me than my own," I shook my head, my words firm, "If I cooperate, he promised not to hurt you. I won't risk losing you for real." I traced my fingers lightly over the scar etched in his cheek, savoring the feeling of his skin under my touch. Our lips met for a brief moment, my heart beating faster as he held me close into his chest. "I'm losing you Alina," he whispered against my lips. Again, he was right. I was slipping into a pit of my own greed, the flames of desire stoked by the Darkling himself. But there was no other way. "It'll be okay Mal, we're always okay," I let my lips turn up into a miserable smile. He studied me, a warmth to his gaze that was always lacking when Aleksander gave me the same look. "When do we leave to start hunting the firebird," he sighed. "Don't worry about that." In truth, I didn't actually know, but I wasn't about to go ask the Darkling after our last interaction. He touched my cheek gently before dropping his hand with a slight nod. "I'll see you tomorrow," I murmured, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth before rising to my feet.

"Tomorrow, Alina."

***

I couldn't sleep.

More accurately, I couldn't stand the thought of sharing a bed with _him_. 

After wandering the halls aimlessly for what seemed like hours, I had found my way to the lake. The water like smooth glass, a perfect reflection of the full moon in its center. The meadow was dark and silent, but for once I welcomed the darkness. It hid the unrelenting ugliness of my shame. My fingers weaved through the grass, clenching around the soft green blades. My surroundings were calm, but I could barely contain the chaos screaming inside my chest. I summoned a soft orb of light, twitching my fingers slightly. It broke apart into wisps of light that mirrored shadows. A new trick I had succeeded in mastering. My wrist turned, the light curling. I tilted my head to the side, mesmerized. The familiar greed was rising up within me again.

Footsteps.

I shot up, my hands reflexively burning with light. The glow illuminated the Darkling's features, his expression unperturbed. "You should be asleep." The light faded. "I should be a lot of things," I bitterly replied, sitting down hard on the grass and turning my attention back to the lake. I stiffened with irritation as he sat down beside me, his black silk kefta pooling behind him. Even sitting in dirt, his elbows resting on his knees, he looked regal. It was infuriating. "Why are you here," I studied the soft ripples disrupting the surface of the lake, my fingernails sinking into my palms. 

"I sensed your thoughts."

 _Which ones?_ I had thought about cutting his stupid face in half for a good hour.

He took my silence as an opportunity to continue. "The tracker asked you to leave with him, but you decided to stay." I could detect the calculated amount of curiosity in his voice. "I'm staying for Ravka, not for you," I muttered. He laughed, a genuine thing that sent tingles of pleasure racing through my veins. I loved the sound, I could die happy listening to it. "You think me a fool Alina?" his eyes glimmered, "I know it's because you are so desperately in love with the tracker. But I'm the one that never strays from your thoughts. Am I wrong?" He wasn't, and I hated that. My eyes flickered to him. He was looking out at the water, the lines of his face framed perfectly by shadows.

My heart felt like it was being shredded into slivers that couldn't possibly be pieced together again. 

I was silent, a sour taste filling my mouth when he smiled that I didn't bother to argue.

I blurted the question before I could even stop to think.

"Tell me something about you."

I didn't know if I was genuine or not, and was I even going to be able to continue with my plan now that Mal was here? Everything was a hazy line of lies and desire at this point. He glanced at me for the first time, his rosy lips quirking into a look that made my heart flutter. "You seem to have a fascination with my past, Alina." I did. I wanted to know what could possibly have shaped him into the person that was sitting next to me. The person that somehow still managed to send my heart racing even when I despised him with every fiber of my being. "Have you ever loved anybody?" I questioned softly. The humor left his eyes, extinguishing like the last dying ember in a fire. "Love is for the weak," he husked after a moment, his gray eyes searching mine. We were closer then I had realized. A shaky exhale filled the silence. "Another uplifting quote to live by," I mumbled softly.

His words had pained me for some inexplicable reason.

I frantically searched for what to say before I did something I would regret. 

"What about your mother."

He hesitated, his eyes leaving mine for a moment. "She was the very person who taught me that lesson," he replied stiffly. I thought back to the memory I had experienced from my brush with the nichevo'ya. _They will never accept you_. Was she the one that had caused his heart to turn cold? The silence lingered before my lips parted with a new question. "When do we leave for the firebird?" His lips curled slightly, I couldn't hide the primal desire that tangled in my voice. "Two days," he affirmed. My focus shifted to him. He had moved closer, his hand lifting to encircle my bare wrist. I ached for the weight of the third amplifier. I longed for it more than anything. His tugged me closer, his thumb beginning to move in slow, gentle circles over the scar on my palm. I hated that I loved it.

"The lowly otkazats'ya thinks he has you, but you are mine Alina Starkov," he leaned in even closer, "I have waited for you my whole life, and I will have every part of you." I was frozen. I tried to make myself pull away, but my body refused to respond. _You think you can balance him, but he could just as easily drag you down into the darkness with him_. I could feel his inky shadows curling around my body, sliding across my skin and through the waves of my hair. Maybe it was his own sick, twisted way of claiming me. The warning abruptly evaporated from my mind like dust in the wind as his fingers caressed down the length of my cheek. His touch was tender, delicate. I sighed in pleasure as a rush of sureness flooded my body. Intoxicating. I leaned into his touch, savoring every second. "I hate you," I whispered, making no move to pull away. His fingertips trailed down my collarbone, dragging along the edge of the stag before traveling back up to slope of my neck. I hated myself for letting him touch me when Mal was just a few hundred feet away, I hated that I _enjoyed_ it. I closed my eyes, I couldn't look at him anymore. My own self loathing was staggering, it consumed me and left me a dark and hollow shell. "I hate you," I murmured again, the words coming out in something dangerously close to a moan. A dull chime of rationale claimed that I should have been mortified. 

Finally, he replied, his response was as soft as a caress. "I know."

Somehow, that was what sobered me. I pulled away with a sharp hiss, shooting to my feet. "If you know, then stay away from me." The corner of his lips pulled upward, he merely looked up at me with a look that seemed to signify he knew something I didn't.

"Good night," I seethed, turning in my heels and leaving him before I lost control of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for the alarkling drama and excessive angst
> 
> did I mention that I hate mal(aria)? because I do. with a burning hot passion of a million suns. I could rant about his shittiness for pages and pages and PAGES. I'm sorry we have to endure more of him, but unfortunately he is an essential plot point to this fic. I promise we will get through it together. #staystrong
> 
> as always feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	9. my patience has worn thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the dirty talk has arrived you guys. it's on the tamer side, just because it would be too OOC at this point but I still live for Aleksander and his innuendos and I just had to sprinkle a little something in there ;) mal still sucks, but what's new. anyways, enjoyyy <3

The day had come. The preparations for our departure had been finished, the black coach polished and ready, surrounded by a company of saddled horses and a much smaller prison coach. I couldn't take my eyes off of the courtyard, the bathroom window giving me a perfect view of everything as I soaked in the hot bath. I couldn't shake the feeling of dark hopelessness that clouded my thoughts. I was putting all of my trust in the Darkling to not harm Mal. But how could I let myself believe his word when he lied time and time again?

"I'm not lying."

I nearly screamed, water spilling over the edge of the bath as I startled. Aleksander was leaning against the door frame watching me with dark intentness. I immediately flushed, thankful for the bubbles and flower petals that covered me from his prying eyes. "Do you mind?" I snapped, my cheeks hot. "No," he smoothly answered, his gaze trailing me in a manner that left me even more flushed than before.

"I don't have the patience today Aleksander." A ghost of a smile adorned his lips. "My patience has worn thin as well," he rasped, the innuendo clear in the seductive tone to his words. Why did it give me a degree of sick satisfaction, knowing that he wanted me? I kept my eyes purposefully trained out the window. People milled around the courtyard, as small as ants as they hurried to finish the last of the preparatory measures. Maybe that was his reason for the placement of the window, to stroke his impossibly large ego and assure himself that he was bigger, more important than everyone else.

"Wanting makes us weak," I reminded him flatly after a beat of silence. He laughed softly.

"A good lesson to remember."

I heard him shift off the wall, approaching the tub and kneeling next to me on the black marble. My eyes shifted to him, my disgust clear as my lip curled. He had a thing or two to learn about boundaries. "Do you want to know what makes me weak?" he tilted his head to the side, a sly innocence to his voice as he tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my hair. I wanted to say no, to curse him out, but I found myself nodding, leaning into him like he was a force of gravity. He shifted forward, his lips hovering over my ear. "The thought of having you, all of you, in that grand bed. The thought of you begging for me, the only person on your mind for hours and hours on end." I couldn't stop the sharp exhale from escaping my lips. Every part of me was hot.

"Get out."

I felt a sense of pride that I had successfully gotten the words out of my mouth.

"Do you think about me at night, in the darkness? You can't lie to me and say your mind goes to the tracker or the Lantsov prince."

He had never spoken to me like this before; it was sinful the way the words heated me to my very core. I was struggling to contain my desire, my self control dangerously close to dissolving as I tried to force a reply. "I don't," I softly spoke, my tone more complacent then contradictory. His eyes were dark, "Then you will." Why was he doing this? Was he jealous because I was back in contact with Mal? I almost laughed at myself for even forming the thought. He wanted to control me, and he knew just how to pull me into him. I sighed in relief as he stood up. A second later and I would have done something I regretted. "Meet me in the courtyard when you're ready, we leave in an hour," he spoke authoritatively, not glancing back as he left me to my bath.

***

Wind whipped through my hair pulled into a loose braid, my kefta catching the draft behind me as I emerged into the courtyard. It was a cold spring day, the air crisp with the echo of winter. Immediately my eyes were scanning the length of the open space in desperate search of Mal. My heart leapt in my throat at the sight of him. He was in chains being forcibly dragged towards the prison coach. He threw a punch, narrowly missing an oprichniki. "Stop," I commanded, my footsteps echoing on the cobblestones as I rushed over to them, waving them away.

His breaths were ragged in his chest, fresh blood at the corner of his mouth. I pulled him to his feet, my fingers digging into the rough coat of his tattered uniform. "Please, Mal, just cooperate," I wiped the blood from his lips, trying not to cringe as the warm, dark liquid stained my fingertips. He leaned into me, his body tensing up. I felt the piercing gaze, my eyes lifting to connect with the Darkling's. He was watching us, studying, calculating. There was a moment of stillness. I cursed every saint there was as he began to cross the pavilion, his black kefta rippling like shadows behind him. "Don't let him have the satisfaction," I gripped Mal's dirty shirt, grabbing for his hand. I knew my words would be futile, both of their egos were entirely too big to avoid an altercation.

"Come with me Alina," the Darkling pleasantly offered his hand, "We will be riding in my carriage." My grip tightened around Mal, my lip curling. How dare he try to act as if we were on good terms? It was another one of his mind games, I knew this time more for Mal's detriment than mine. "I'm fine, thank you for the generous offer though," I sarcastically smiled. He cocked his head to the side slightly, as if my response was a curious thing he had to decipher. "You heard her, she doesn't want you," Mal sneered with satisfaction. I gritted my teeth. _Really, Mal?_

My stomach dropped as Aleksander's gaze flickered to him, his expression turning to something akin to as if he had just noticed a speck of mud on his shoe. He took a threatening step forward, closing the space between the two of them. Though he was only several inches taller, it seemed like Mal was a small child in comparison. I quickly shoved in between them, placing my hand flat against Aleksander's hard chest to keep some distance, desperate to keep the fragile peace before someone got hurt. That someone primarily being Mal. "Don't, please," I protested softly. He didn't acknowledge or even seem to see me, his powerful gaze boring into Mal's stubborn eyes as he looked down at him in distaste.

"You see, tracker, you don't know what she wants. Can you read her thoughts? Are you connected to her in any way other than your meaningless puppy love?"

I could feel Mal bristle at the words, but he didn't respond. The Darkling looked like a lion about to finish off its helpless prey. 

"Stop it." My words were dangerously close to taking on a pleading tone. 

Neither Aleksander nor Mal shifted their gaze. I was practically invisible to the both of them.

"She wants me in every single way you won't even dare to imagine," the Darkling spoke, his voice silky with wicked satisfaction, "I have already had her begging, had her underneath me in my bed. I'm afraid you were the furthest thing from her mind when she gave herself to me, tracker."

Mal let out something like a strangled battle cry, animalistic as he lunged for him.

I cried out as I was knocked out of the way, shadows closing around Mal's neck in an instant, pulling him off his feet and strangling him as I helplessly watched. "You are nothing, an insignificant speck of dust," the Darkling hissed, his fist tightening as Mal clawed wildly at the shadows, his face reddening from the oxygen deprivation. Anger was pulsing hot through my veins.

I was done with this. 

My hand found the knife from my pocket that I had been holding onto since Mal arrived, the blade glinting in the light as I pulled it out and held it to my throat. "If you hurt him, I'll kill myself right now," I pressed the sharp edge against my neck, glaring straight at the Darkling.

Both of him and Mal looked at me with an identical expression of total shock. It was devastatingly ironic.

"Alina, put down the knife." The Darkling's voice was smooth, calm. Mal was letting out a string of strangled pants, his struggling becoming weaker and weaker. "Let him go, _now_ , I'm serious," I warned, feeling the blade slice into my skin with a sharp sting as I pressed harder. I didn't care about the pain, in fact, I relished the small bit of control it gave me after feeling powerless for so long. "Alina," the Darkling apprehensively spoke, the darkness swirling around him uncertainly. I could tell he was trying to decipher if I was bluffing or not. The knife was deep in my skin now, blood beginning to stream down my arm. At the sight, he dropped Mal instantly into a crumpled heap on the cobblestones. Blood spattered against the pavement as I rushed to Mal, dropping to his side and gripping his hand as he coughed violently. "You're despicable," I spat, looking up at the Darkling hovering over us. His disgust for Mal was clear, but his eyes glimmered with a newfound hint of concern as his gaze followed a drop of blood working its way down my arm. "Healer, now!" he called, authoritatively, though he didn't make a move towards me himself.

Dizziness twisted through my vision as arms materialized behind me, the firm grip pulling me to my feet. "Mal, just do what they say," I breathlessly pleaded, the shape of him on the ground blurring as black spots swirled across my line of sight. Nausea was thick in my mouth at the feeling of hot blood pulsing down my skin in slick waves.

"Get her to my carriage, before she loses too much blood."

The world tilted, my feet giving out from underneath me. I fell into a pair of outstretched arms before everything went dark.

***

My eyes fluttered open at the feeling of a dull ache pounding in my throat. I was in the inside of the Darkling's dark, ornate velvet coach, swathed in a bed of pillows and silks.

"You're awake."

I glowered at the slightest hint of relief betrayed in distinct sound of Aleksander's voice; I glanced up to where he was sitting across from me with thinly veiled loathing in my eyes. How dare he act as if he was concerned about my well being beyond my usefulness to him. His features were shadowed as he met my stare, making the lines of his face more pronounced, and somehow more alluring. I hated myself for noticing it. My teeth bit down on my cheek to stifle a reply, I pointedly ignored him and shifted my gaze, touching several fingertips to my neck. The sharp pain was only a dull throb, the cut faded into smooth skin. "How long was I out," I hoarsely spoke, the words grating my throat painfully. "A day." Surprise tingled down my arms. "Can I see Mal?" I asked as cordially as I could force myself to sound. 

Silence.

The coach jostled over a bump in the path, making my head snap backwards and hit the seat. A whimper fell from my lips involuntarily, my neck still uncomfortably tender. Aleksander shifted towards me in apparent concern, his fingers lifting to ghost over the now invisible injury. "You would die for him." The words were matter of fact. "I would," I held his stare, attempting to seem more confident than I felt being in such close proximity. It always seemed that my disgust for him dissipated whenever I could feel the heat of his body, the press of his skin. I forced myself rigid, desperately trying to resist the pull to lean into him. He held my wavering stare before, finally, he shrugged, the intensity in his eyes fading. I let out a soft exhale of relief when he leaned back to his original position, now the picture of unbothered ease. "I didn't kill him," he stated with an air of indifference, carefully searching my eyes for a reaction. "Do you want an award? Good job, you didn't murder someone." My words dripped with bitter sarcasm. The muscles in his jaw tightened, the shadows in the coach darkening slightly around us.

"I did it for you."

My brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "Why?" I flatly questioned. "No matter what you think of me Alina, I would prefer not having to live our eternity with you hating me," he smiled in apparent bitterness. Admittedly, I didn't want that either. But how could I live with myself if I let everything go? All the bloodshed, the torture, the utter cruelty. It was sickening the amount of conflict that clawed at my insides. I thought back to the first time I had met him, the memory still shockingly vivid. He had shown so much care for me, he had saved my life and comforted me and believed in me when no one else did. I could distinctly remember the feeling of his hands on my neck as we rode to the palace. He had protected me then. Just months later I needed to be protected from _him_. "Some things can't be undone," I softly spoke, my mind straying to Genya. To the countless bodies. He nodded, his lips pulling into his mouth as he fell into his own thoughts. My gaze moved to the window, my fingers curling around the velvet curtains and pulling them back slightly. Light filtered into the coach from the bright afternoon sun. The rolling hills of Dva Stolba stretched out for miles. All I wanted to do was slam the door open and run to check on Mal, but while we were still moving I had to take Aleksander's word for it that he was unharmed. Furthermore, he had too many enemies for us to stop anytime soon, and I knew I would be an imbecile to ask.

"Aleksander?" I hesitantly spoke his name. I turned to see him now leaned back lazily against the cushions, long legs crossed in front of him. His fingers were casting wispy shadows that he was twirling through his fingers with a level of skill and control only centuries of practice could produce. "Yes Alina," he murmured, not even bothering to shift his attention. In a sick way, it satisfied me that I could use his name without hesitation now. "What are you planning once we get the third amplifier," I cleared my throat softly.

His quartz eyes connected with mine.

I could see the hunger that simmered in his gaze, a never ending void of greed that could never be sated. "You think me a monster Alina. I will only use the Fold if our enemies refuse to submit to me," he curled his hand over his lips. There it was again. Submit to _him_. He didn't think of me as his equal, he never would. "So many innocent people will die," I whispered, the thought filling me with dread. Their blood would be on my hands. "And innocent Ravkan lives will be spared from the casualties of a continued war," he responded confidently. He made it seem so logical, so utterly simple. But I had seen the pain on Zoya's face. Deaths were just numbers until it was someone close to you.

Maybe he didn't care because he had never let anyone get close to him. Or maybe it was because he had never been capable of any human emotion.

I doubted I would find out.

***

We set up camp at nightfall, the Fold close on the horizon. A perimeter of guards had been stationed around the prison coach and the Darkling's tent. His grand jet black tent stood out in a stark contrast against the sprawling collection of small canvas ones. Always dramatic. I had visited Mal, who hadn't been permitted to leave the coach. I could still feel his lips against mine through the cold metal of the cell bars. My mind couldn't stay with Mal, though, no matter how hard I tried. We were close to the firebird, I could sense it. My skin burned with the feeling, like a raging wildfire that couldn't possibly be put out.

Our journey had purpose this time, I knew we could capture it with Mal's help. My gaze came into focus, I stared at myself in the mirror, taking in my appearance. My hair shone with gold, the collar heavy on my chest. For once the bags under my eyes were faint. The fetter clung to my wrist, the blue scales icy against my skin. My velvet kefta was fastened against my throat, the weight of the symbol clasp pressing into my neck. I looked powerful. Formidable. 

The flap of the entrance was pulled back, startling me as Aleksander entered our tent. I flushed even if he had had no idea what I had been doing. Fortunately for my pride, he didn't even glance my way. He quickly approached the dresser, slamming the drawer open and plucking a leather bound book from inside. "Be ready to cross the Fold tomorrow," he didn't even spare me a look as he exited the tent. I frowned. He was up to something. Shouldn't a queen or whatever I was be able to know everything that was going on? Against my better judgement, I quietly pushed open the silken entrance, my eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness of night. I could hear low voices coming from the war tent, the flicker of light visible through the canvas and illuminating a dark collection of silhouettes. My fingers trembled as I approached the entrance, pressing my ear against the fabric. At first I only caught snatches of words, but as their voices increased in volume, I could mostly follow.

"...trust her? She's weak and disobedient."

I reddened at Ivan's words. How dare he talk about me like that.

"You question my choices, Ivan?" Aleksander's voice cut through like a knife.

"No, moi tsar, only that without an incentive she could turn on us in the Fold." A third and fourth voice murmured tones of agreement.

"The firebird is enough. I tire of you questioning me, Ivan. You would do well to make sure this time is the last."

I grinned.

"And after the firebird? Will we head straight to march on the oktazat'sya prince's hideout?"

All the air escaped my lungs. Had they actually found him?

There was silence. The entrance was thrown open, causing me to let out an undignified squeak and fall hard onto the dirt. I looked up at the Darkling apprehensively. His gaze trailed me, an indistinguishable look in his eye. "If you would like to join us, you need only ask," he icily spoke. I wasn't sure if it was a true invitation or a warning. He offered me a hand to stand up but I rejected it, climbing to my feet and brushing myself off from the dirt and grass that now clung to my garments. "Talking about my next string of murders isn't really my thing," I narrowed my eyes. He seemed to find amusement in my response, a slight smile curling at his lips. I glanced behind him to see Ivan and three more Grisha staring at me in contempt from behind the long wooden table. "Fine," I snapped, stepping over the threshold and following him back inside.

Maps littered the walls, a similar three dimensional map of Ravka to the one back in Os Alta was set up on the table. "If he is anywhere along these peaks I believe attack from the north," Ivan trailed his fingers along the top of a string of mountains. There was a flurry of red flags just on the other side of the peaks, indicating possibilities for Nikolai's position. I stifled my sigh of relief. They were close, but there was still time. "And what do you think Alina." He was testing me. I look up at him, unsure of what my response would be. "Or pretend to ally with Fjerda and attack from the west where they would least expect it." He leaned back against the wooden support beam of the tent, looked mildly impressed. "I agree," he simply spoke, his fingers ghosting over a passage from the west through the mountains.

A bitter, acrid taste settled on my tongue. Hadn't I said I would slit my own throat before helping him find my friends? My whole body ached. All because I just wanted to impress him in some twisted way. "We will talk strategy once we have obtained the firebird, you are dismissed," Aleksander waved the other Grisha away with a flick of his hand. He turned to me when we were alone. "You have an eye for war, Alina." It was almost a compliment, but it did nothing to ease the sickened feeling in my stomach. "Go back to our tent, I have more matters to attend to," he reached out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of my lips for a brief moment before drifting back down to rest back on the edge of the table. "Good night," I turned away with shameful haste, my fingernails slicing into my palms. 

Behold, Alina Starkov, the Saint that couldn't even protect her own people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	10. the mouse has a bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it feels like its been so long lol I apologize for the wait I was on vacation this weekend and I didn't get a chance to update. booo I know. anyways I just wanted to let you guys know how much I appreciate every comment and kudos, it means SO much to me because I love the grishaverse so much and I just want to do the story justice. 
> 
> also mal sucks again. 
> 
> enjoy <3

The distinct, unearthly quiet of the Fold blanketed our surroundings as we approached, disconcertingly familiar. My nichevo'ya bite itched uncomfortably as it always did around any presence of merzost, as if it were responding to the call of the darkness. The whole encampment was on edge as the skiffs were prepared for the crossing, the only individual unbothered being Aleksander. In fact, he seemed completely at ease. A monster content in the presence of his creation. I approached Mal's coach, curling my fingers around the cold metal bars and flashing him a small smile. "Ready?" I questioned lightly, trying to keep a degree of levity in our otherwise horrifying situation.

"I'm the one in a cage, those volcra can kiss my ass because they're not touching me," he grinned. It had been the first real smile I'd seen from him in ages, one that actually reached the corners of his eyes and glimmered with a measure of playfulness. His fingertips pressed against mine, warm and comforting. "Maybe I should be the worried one then," I smirked, making him shrug casually. "Yeah, it's not like you're the one person that can cross safely without anyone's help," he rolled his eyes teasingly. I blew him a flirty kiss through the bars. Why we were acting like lovesick teenagers right before we were about to enter the most dangerous place on the planet escaped me. Temporary insanity? Plausible. "Alina," Aleksander's voice caught my attention immediately even at a normal volume. I turned around reluctantly, focusing on him standing at the front of the largest skiff about a hundred feet away. He beckoned me over with two fingers. "I'll be back," I promised Mal firmly, turning on my heels and making my way over to him, my boots crunching against the scattered gravel.

"What do you want," I stated, my tone dry as I climbed up the wooden ramp. I was done playing his games, and I was intent on making that clear. He stayed quiet for a moment. His kefta blew in the breeze, his hair was immaculate. He looked especially regal. "You will stay with me for the duration of the crossing," he finally prompted.

"No."

He arched a brow at my blatant disregard of his order. "You will stay with me," he spoke again, his voice a blade of steel tipped with poison. I stepped closer to him, determined not to be intimidated. His gaze shifted down to me. "I am your only guarantee for a safe passage," I smiled coldly. His jaw ticked with restrained irritation. "I grow weary of fighting you, Alina," he calmly turned away, his eyes training on the hoard of darkness before us, "There are things worse than death. I will not kill the tracker, but I will most certainly force you to watch when he will be begging for the end, begging _me_ for the end. You will not move from my side unless you want to find out how merciless I can be."

There it was again. A depressive sense of utter powerlessness that he could cast over me with a few words. How could I ever hope to challenge him when he was so utterly ruthless? I wanted to wring his neck and my fingers twitched with the urge. I looked over my shoulder to Mal, who's coach was being attached to the back of the very last skiff. His gaze met mine from across the clearing, eyes falling in disappointment as I shook my head in defeat. I took a reluctant step forward so I was right next to the Darkling, our shoulders almost touching. "Wise choice," he murmured, glancing down at me. There was an unusual softness to his gray eyes as they drifted from my eyes to my lips. "Don't." My voice wavered, unconvincing.

"Why."

There was a million reasons why. He was a murderer, I loved Mal, now was not the time or place for desire. Didn't he care about looking weak? Kissing me would be a sign of weakness, I had heard the phrase from his very lips. My thoughts had distracted me from him, and I didn't even realize he had leaned in until his mouth was on mine, a gentle caress of warmth. I let out a shaky breath against his lips, making him hiss in pleasure. "Stop, Aleksander, please." I pulled away from him, retreating back a step. He studied me for a brief moment, something flickering behind his expression before his back straightened, looking back out towards the shadowy edges of the Fold. He raised his hand in signal. We moved forward, immediately swallowed by the darkness.

***

Darkness enveloped us, thick and sinister as we entered the Fold. The screams of volcra that had haunted my dreams for months were now louder and more horrible than ever, worse than they ever were in my nightmares. I cast a small halo of light, pushing to increase the boundary so it encompassed all of the skiffs. My power flooded through every fiber of my being, pulsing through my veins as the skiffs started to quickly move over the gray sand. The combination of Aleksander watching me and the flap of leathery wings set me on edge. As we travelled deeper into the abyss, I noticed a volcra hovering at the edge of the protective halo, curved claws outstretched and fangs bared with a grating screech. I flicked my fingers outward. The creature screamed as the light wrapped around it, burning its flesh. It fell from the sky, leaving a trail of dark smoke before landing deep in the gray sand.

I'd killed it.

Aleksander's surprised laugh floated to my ears, breaking the silence. In truth I'd almost forgotten he was right next to me, entirely preoccupied in drowning myself in my own power. "Not a word," I warned, the light intensifying with my irritation. He pressed his lips together to stifle his amusement, humor dancing in his eyes. I could almost hear what he was thinking, as if he had said the words aloud. 

_The mouse has a bite, doesn't she?_

The only noise now was the soft sound of sand against the wooden skiffs as we moved forward. Volcra has ceased their angry screams, giving us a wide berth after the death of one of their own. The silence, as always, was eerie, unnatural. My thoughts strayed to Mal, chained and dragging along in the back. What if they had thrown him into the darkness and this was all a sick ploy? "Alina." I jumped as Aleksander's hand grasped my arm, cold against the glowing heat coming off of my skin. The inky edges of darkness had started to creep in, dangerously close. It seemed to whisper with a mind of its own.

I let out a shaky breath, pushing the glow out farther, even farther than before. "Focus," he gently spoke. I could feel his touch amplifying my powers, allowing the light to surge brighter than I was able to on my own. The land on the other side was visible now now, a beacon of safety amidst the utter darkness. I felt calmer. I didn't even have to think about summoning anymore, with the press of his skin against mine it felt as natural as breathing. It vibrated through me in a constant flood of power, thrumming underneath my skin in rhythm with my pulse. "Do you feel it," Aleksander spoke, his voice low and bordering on seductive. He didn't have to specify what of that he was referring to.

The firebird. Every inch we moved forward I could feel it in my bones.

"We're so close." My teeth dug into my lower lip, an overwhelming wave of need cresting through my body like water. He brought the hand he was loosely gripping to his lips, letting them linger on my skin. His next words sent a pleasurable chill through me.

"Then everything in this world, it will all be ours."

***

"Mal," I almost crumpled with a surprising amount of relief, an invisible tension falling away as I curled my hands around the cold metal of the bars. He was bruised and disheveled, but alive, curled up in the shadows of the cell.

_Make me your villain_. Maybe I thought worse of Aleksander than his actuality. Or maybe he kept his word purely because it suited his needs.

My brows furrowed slightly when Mal made no indication he had heard me, no sign of greeting. His head was tilted down, his jaw locked with tension. Ivan, who was standing guard and I was pointedly ignoring, let out a condescending laugh. "Lover boy got a little jealous earlier," he smirked, his arms lazily folding over his broad chest. "Shut up, Ivan," I snapped, only making the smug look on his face deepen. "Mal, what's going on, talk to me," I knelt down in the damp grass so I was level with where he was sitting. His jaw clenched as his dirty fingernails crushed into his palms. The silence lingered as I patiently waited for him to speak.

"I can't do anything, I just have to watch him parade you around right in front of me and it's sickening," he growled, refusing to even look at me. I shook my head, annoyance prickling at my fingertips. "That's what this is about? Your ego?" I asked in disbelief, "You know I love you Mal, is that not enough?" He scowled, his eyes squeezing shut. "It is enough, Alina." His words were tight. An aching feeling had settled into my chest, uncomfortably restricting. "But you don't get it," he finally continued, surprising me with the bitterness of his words, "He plays around with you like you're his toy or something. And you go along with it because it makes you feel powerful." The ache was gone, replaced with a quiet fury that burned. "Maybe you're threatened, because for once, I'm the one protecting you." He stiffened. "My bad, I forgot you're the all powerful Sankta, I'm just a lowly otkazat'sya that could never hope to be worthy of your greatness. Right?" he spat, his face reddening. I felt the wild urge to hit him, to physically knock an ounce of logic into his thick skull. "Those are the Darkling's words, he's spoon feeding them to you and you're somehow childish enough to actually believe that I think that," I seethed.

He fell silent, the anger coming off of him in waves.

I stood up. "Cool off Mal, and maybe you'll get your head out of your ass by morning," I hissed, brushing myself off and stalking away. 

***

I almost collapsed into the bed, my body finally realizing how physically exhausted it was from the passage through the Fold. My mind, on the other hand, was spilling over with a never ending stream of thoughts. My argument with Mal lingered, lurking in the background like a dark storm cloud on the horizon, but the pull of the firebird was distractingly stronger every moment, it felt unbearable to sit still. I was restless, the power deep inside of me itching for the rest of it to be awakened. I pulled the silken sheets around me, studying the flickering flame of the candle that made the shadows lurking in the tent corners come alive with movement. A sudden curiosity overtook me.

Or maybe it was greed.

I shifted forward, my fingers hovering over the dancing light. A breath rushed from my lips as I exhaled in concentration. _Aren't we like all things?_ My fingers curled slightly. The flame bobbled, almost imperceptibly. Excitement danced over my lips, my pulse quickening. I flexed my fingertips again, calling it towards me. The light curved, wavering in a crescent shape before I let it go. I sat back, stunned, before a flood of confusion promptly tightened in my chest. Why was the first person that I wanted to tell, Aleksander? As if he'd known my thoughts had strayed to him, he entered the tent with an aura of aggravation.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," he mused, taking in my robe covered body perched stiffly on the edge of the mattress. My mouth parted to speak, but couldn't seem to find words. Instead I shrugged, my shoulders feeling particularly heavy. I watched intently as he elegantly removed his kefta, moving over to the mirror next to the fireplace. A flush crawled across my cheeks when his fingers curled over the collar of his shirt, swiftly pulling it off and throwing it onto the chair adjacent to him. A nasty purple bruise covered his side, blooming across his ribs in a circular pattern. He tested the skin with his fingertips, grimacing slightly as he inspected it.

"What happened?" I hesitantly stood up, smoothing out the silk robe before approaching him. He looked down at me, his features illuminated with a warm glow from the fire. "One guess," he prompted simply. I contemplated, the answer dawning on me almost immediately. "Baghra?" I stifled a laugh as he nodded. "As you might be able to deduct, we do not have the best of relationships," he dryly spoke. I couldn't help a giggle from escaping my lips, even though the joke was a relatively sinister one. "I don't know which one of us she hates more." My voice still held humor, but I failed to hide the note of sadness I felt. She hated me because I was a failure. Because I was weak. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his jet black curls. "She is not innocent in all of this Alina." His voice was serious as he looked down at me. "She made me who I am, she encouraged the lust for power until I crossed the point of no return."

I knew there was truth to his words, I had glimpsed the memory. _They will never accept you, and furthermore, they are beneath you._ I couldn't imagine being so isolated at such a young age, I had always had Mal by my side. I searched his eyes, finding myself trying to decipher his emotion. Again, there was the mask of blankness, immune to my invisible fingers attempting to pull it free. "You know that you are my balance Alina," he rasped, his hand grasping for mine. He pulled me into his chest, making me gasp softly as my body pressed against him, his legs between mine. A flash of raw desire burned in his eyes. "Light and darkness," I whispered. His cold fingers curled at my jawline, his other hand coming to rest at my lower back as he nodded. Our proximity was unbearable. My breaths were shaky and labored, the pleasure of him overwhelming. I had no caution, no sense left in my body. Everything was consumed by him.

"Kiss me, Aleksander."

There was no pretense as his mouth came down on mine, hungry and desperate and aggressive. My hand found its way to his hair, curling around the soft wisps as my other hand slid along the hard muscle of his bare chest. My whole body was feverish, burning hot where our skin touched as our connection exploded. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along my lips as if he were tasting something sweet for the first time. All the breath left my body as his hands curled around the underside of my thighs, pushing me up against the rough brick of the fireplace mantle and causing my legs to instinctively wrap around his torso. "You are mine," he spoke against my lips, all of the possessiveness and unwanted desire I felt tangled in his voice. I didn't respond, I couldn't possibly respond, my body consumed with pleasure as my breaths came in desperate pants.

My fingertips dragged across the heated skin of his bruises, making him hiss, nipping at my neck. The wicked sense of satisfaction immediately faded as he rocked his hips forward into mine before pulling me off the wall with bruising force. I desperately reconnected our lips as he let me fall against the bed. I could feel him reluctantly letting go of the control that he always clutched tightly in his grasp, every kiss harder and hungrier than the last. Wild and uncalculated, all rough teeth and desperate lips. His fingers were sliding along the tie of my robe. A warning bell rang in the back of my mind. I ignored it. The knot was undone in a brief moment, the silk falling from my body and leaving me in mere undergarments. His eyes darkened. My toes curled at my vulnerability, but the way that he looked at me, like a starving man that had found his last meal, was enough to make me quickly forget. His hands captured my wrists, pinning them against the sheets as his lips met the skin of my neck. I gasped, my back arching as he rolled my skin between his teeth, his tongue darting out to soothing the stinging pain with an open mouthed kiss. The definition of possessive. "Aleksander." My eyes rolled back as his lips trailed down to the partly exposed skin of my breasts. "Alina." His lips moved against my skin, devouring me and making my body move against him exactly how he wanted, like he was whispering to it in a language I didn't understand. His fingers were trailing down my stomach, sending waves of anticipation through me...

"Moi tsar?"

The voice floated uncertainly from outside the tent.

Aleksander's head snapped up, a snarl curling at his lip at the interruption. I gulped. He rarely lost his temper, but I could already tell, with nauseating apprehension, this was going to be one of those rare times. I quickly threw my robe back around me as his fingers curled around his discarded shirt. He didn't even bother buttoning it, merely throwing it over his shoulders as he approached the entrance. His voice was taught, saturated with angry irritation as he conversed with whoever was on the other side. Their voices ceased as he raised his hand. The sickening but hauntingly familiar sound of a body being sliced in half echoed through the tent, the heavy noise of something falling enough to make tears rush to my eyes. More voices arrived, probably oprichniki coming to clean up the casualty of interrupting the Darkling. With that was the sobering reminder of who he was.

My tongue rolled around the word in my mouth, familiar with the taste of it. _Monster_.

I curled up, burying my head into the pillows as he closed the tent flap. 

_If the Sun Summoner had looked up, she would have seen the remorse in his eyes. Regret was not something the Darkling ever felt, but as he gazed at the girl splayed on the bed in front of him, he regretted it all, everything that he had done to her that had ended up pushing her away. But some, including himself, would say he was too far gone to turn back now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally almost wrote this line as "more voices arrived, probably oprichniki coming to clean up the casualty of interrupting the Darkling while he was hella horny" 
> 
> I mean, tell me I'm wrong 
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos


	11. you fear him turning away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh sorry for the wait! I have to physically force myself to write mal and it leaves me uninspired (I mean he literally has no personality sooo..) I love reading and responding to all of your comments, that's what inspires me to keep writing, so keep em coming and let me know what you like! :))
> 
> thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy <3

"Well, tracker?"

Mal's jaw was set, his eyes hard as he gazed around at the surroundings, dim light filtering through the trees. I could feel his restrained anger at having to answer to Aleksander, his ice blue eyes stormy. "It's here," he determined confidently. I could feel it as well, an ancient and humbling power that encompassed the valley. I gripped the reins of my horse tightly, my fingernails digging into the supple leather as I let my gaze wander. The mountain loomed before us, the waterfall crashing over its edge and down far below into a crystal pool beneath. The forest was wild, untamed with thick evergreens.

"How long." Aleksander's voice was tight. He didn't seem to like the idea of needing Mal's help any more than Mal liked helping him. He shrugged, kneeling and brushing the earth with his callused hand. "If it stays in its domain, a week." He looked at me, his bright blue eyes filled with apology and the despair of sorrow. A weeks time and I would become the weapon the Darkling had always wanted. Either that or a force powerful enough to contest his. "We will depart at dawn," Aleksander announced to the collection of us who were apart of the hunting party. My horse shifted under my feet, stomping its hooves as I dismounted. Aleksander did the same, though his looked considerably more elegant.

As a servant took our horses, his gaze came to a rest on me, trained on the slope of my neck. I quickly adjusted my kefta, instinctively knowing that one of the heated, bruised marks he'd given me last night had become visible. His lips drifted into a satisfied smirk, making me scowl. He quite clearly relished my unease, relished that I had given into him so easily last night and had a definitive mark to show for it. His gaze promptly shifted, making me stiffen as he looked over at Mal in disdain. I took an instinctive step towards him. "I will not harm your lapdog, at ease Alina." His eyes glinted before he turned on his heel, leaving us. "I love it when he gives me nicknames," Mal brushed the dirt from his hands before latching his arms around my waist and pulling me into him. I couldn't help but return his boyish grin, despite yesterday's argument. "Why the sudden change in mood?" I cocked my head to the side as my hands came to a rest around his neck. "Because," he leaned in, a sly sparkle in his eye, "This is the first time in weeks that I get to kiss you without a stupid cell wall between us."

My eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed against mine, warm and sweet. A pang of guilt immediately turned my mouth sour as his mouth moved slowly against mine. I didn't deserve his love or affection when last night I'd let Aleksander touch me in ways Mal never had. He broke away when he felt me stop kissing him back. "I'm sorry for what I said, Alina, I'm an ass," he misread my reaction, gently brushing back the strands of hair that had blown into my face in the wind. I shook my head. "What's wrong then?" he pulled me closer into his warm embrace in an effort to shield me from the icy breeze. "Just thinking about hiking through the woods for who knows how long with the Darkling to keep us company," I curled my lip slightly, making him chuckle. "Maybe if we make out enough he'll get the point and leave you alone," he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. I hit him in the center of his hard chest, rolling my eyes as I untangled myself from him. "Or he would send a nichevo'ya in the middle of the night to make out with you instead," I deadpanned, "And I hear their bites leave a mark." He snorted.

Our brief moment together was ruined as Ivan approached the two of us, no effort made to hide his distaste. "Let's go otkazat'sya," he disgustedly ordered. What was with Grisha and their disdain for anything and anyone normal? I followed close behind as Ivan paraded him back to his cell rather roughly. "I'll bring you some food after dinner," I smiled slightly as he nodded, winking as Ivan shut him in, locking the door with a metallic click.

***

"I can't do it," I snapped, my stomach growling with hunger, gnawing painfully at my insides. My surprise was apparent when Aleksander had insisted we continue our lessons, even out in the woods. Maybe it was his strategy to keep me away from Mal.

I had been trying to perform for hours, dinner had long past and still he hadn't given it up. "You won't allow yourself," his calm voice infuriated me, "You want to be weak. Accept your destiny." I didn't want to be weak. I wasn't weak. I focused on the rock before me again, it's dull gray tucked between strands of dewy grass. My palms curved, casting light in a beam that illuminated the stone faintly. I willed it to become something solid, something tangible. My hands were shaking with the effort. The light twisted and coiled with a mind of it's own. I silently commanded it to wrap around the rock, feel the weight of it to pick it up, but it did nothing but cast a cheerful glow onto its surface.

"I'm not-" I hesitated, letting the light fade in defeat, "I can't. I just can't." He took a step towards me. My body reacted traitorously to his proximity, my skin burning hot. "I have felt the extent of your power, Alina, but you are letting your dreams of otkazat'sya cloud your potential." The corner of my mouth turned down in irritation. Everything was Mal's fault to him. "Why can't I just be content with what I can do now?" I crossed my arms over my chest, holding his gaze. We both knew the answer. With our shared lust for power, it would drive me mad if I was mediocre. Deep down I wanted to be superior to everyone else, and that ashamed me to no end. "You are holding yourself back because you fear him turning away from you," he spoke, his head tilting.

He could read me frighteningly easily. The thought tugged at my very soul.

 _What if I became so twisted with the quest for power, that even the people I knew and loved couldn't recognize me anymore?_ I shivered. A cool breeze blew through the clearing, twisting through my hair. "We are still human, Aleksander," I whispered. Though he had become practiced in burying it, I knew it was inside of him.

"In the most insignificant way."

I let out a soft breath. He gestured to the sky, to the world around us, "We are constant in this world Alina. We are meant to shape it into something greater." It was all so overwhelming, so much so that I wanted to cry with the weight of it. "I don't want this," I curled my fingers around the fetter, my fingers flexing with the temptation to try to rip it off of me. "It is the dawn of a new era," his eyes glimmered with promise, "Grisha will be on the throne. We will be exalted as gods, we will unite the world, we will keep peace. Isn't that what you want, Alina? No more mindless death and destruction?"

He was manipulating again, I had become more practiced in identifying it now. Playing at my compassion.

But maybe he also truly believed what he was saying.

He closed the gap between us, our bodies almost touching as his fingers ran over the ivory collar. The morbid fascination that flashed in his eyes was one I knew was a mirror of myself. I knew I wouldn't stop until I got the firebird, and he wouldn't stop until he ruled every inch of land within his grasp. Had the world really meant for us to be together? Would we really balance each other, or would we both become an avalanche of desire and lust that couldn't be stopped? I wanted to pull him out of the darkness, but I could just as well become it. I felt it inside of me, screaming to be let out of its iron clad cage of shame that I buried deep within me. "The greed of man is infinite," I murmured, my mind straying to Baghra's lessons that she'd hammered into my brain from the beginning. Lessons she had tried to teach me to rectify what she had done to her son. Aleksander's eyes flickered, their beautiful silver hue glinting in the moonlight. "Yes, and we have established that I am a greedy monster already," he icily spoke, his voice like cut glass. "That's not what I said," I protested.

_Why did I feel the need to correct him?_

He took a step towards me, instinctively making me step back. "So you don't think I'm a monster?" The shadows around us had darkened, sinister and cold, twisting and slithering like they were somehow alive. I didn't know what I thought of him anymore. He took my silence as his answer, his hands tightening into fists for a brief second before relaxing. "When you are no longer a saint to the people, you will come to understand the weight of ruling over your subjects when they do not understand or love you." Was that how he felt? I had never considered things from his perspective. All he seemed to say was that he wanted peace for Ravka. I knew he truly cared about the land, and all the people saw him as was inhuman and ungodly. Lord knows the amount of stories and superstitions I had heard in Keramzin. "I'd like to go eat now," I swallowed hard, the lump that had formed in the back of my throat now painfully large. His pale skin seem to glow in the moonlight as he gestured to the short path back to camp, "You're dismissed, Alina." I didn't look back as I quickly made my way out of the clearing, but I knew his eyes were on me the whole way.

***

It was dawn. Our hunting party had gathered at the edge of the dark forest while the rest of the camp remained deep in the clutches of sleep. The weak sunlight filtered through the thick mass of clouds, not lending much warmth to the surface. The weather of the few days we had enjoyed prior had vanished, winter had seemingly wrapped its icy claws back around the land, determined to not let go and concede to the warmth of spring. Aleksander was across the clearing, conversing with his personal oprichniki. He hadn't come to sleep in our tent last night, I was sure of it, and yet he looked perfectly rested and flawless as usual. Mal had been let out of the confines of his cage, but, naturally, we weren't permitted to be near each other. Ivan was hovering next to me, while four Heartrenders surrounded Mal. Apart from that, our group was rounded out by several Healers, a few Summoners, and a single Fabrikator.

I hugged my black velvet kefta around me, trying to shutter my body against the piercing wind that swept through my hair. I knew Mal was quietly furious that I was wearing black again, but I was of better use to protect him warm and in black than dead from the cold. And I had told him so, only to send him into a brooding sulk that I pointedly ignored. "If you think the Darkling will leave him alive, you're dumber than I thought." Ivan had followed my longing gaze trained in Mal's direction, his words dripping with condescension. My eyes snapped to him. "If you think the Darkling will leave you alive if I tell him I want you gone, than you're just as much of an idiot as I know you are." He looked taken aback, the smirk quickly falling from his lips. I sweetly smiled in satisfaction before glancing back towards Aleksander, who had made an elegant motion with his hand.

We were leaving.

Mal had been paraded up to the front while I was distracted, still flanked by his multitude of guards. My boots crunched on the frozen leaves as we began to follow his sure steps. Sooner than I thought I would have, I had lost all sense of direction, the thick forest crowding our surroundings. I very purposefully hung at the back, much to the annoyance of Ivan. If I had to walk between Mal on one side and Aleksander on the other I suspected I would implode. "Do you really believe in this plan?" I was surprised at my self that I asked Ivan his opinion, and he mirrored my shock with a confused frown. I waited expectantly for his answer, the only sound between us our footsteps. Finally, he shrugged. "No one can deny that with him on the throne, no Grisha will be enslaved or tortured again." I considered that, my head tilting to the side slightly.

 _I understand the desire to be free_. Safety and security had to be a tantalizing promise when your kind was constantly persecuted everywhere else. "At what cost?" I pressed my lips together, to which he didn't answer. We fell back into deep silence. As we walked, every once in a while Mal would stop and crouch, brushing the leaves away to decipher some invisible clue, or reach up and pluck a wisp of a feather from a tree branch I wouldn't have seen even if it was right in front of me. I felt a burst of pride every time he seemed to find something. Some lowly otkazat'sya, he was the best tracker in all of the First Army.

The gray skies made it nearly impossible to decipher the time, but I grew exhausted early on. Sweat soon began to bead on my brow, my breaths coming in labored gasps. Ivan couldn't get more exasperated with me as we dragged behind. Finally when I almost stumbled off the side of the hill, he called up, "Can we take a rest break? The Sun Summoner is about to collapse in my arms." I bit my lip as both Mal and Aleksander shot him a look. The same exact look that seemed to be along the lines of _touch her, and you're dead_.

What was with my ability to attract possessive men like a damn magnet? All I needed now was Nikolai to drop in from the tree canopy and proclaim I was his queen. Maybe I could get Ivan to fall in love with me as well while I was at it.

"Hold," Aleksander called, his voice authoritative and powerful without him even having to raise it. Immediately the party started to slump down on the various rocks and fallen trees in our path, dropping their heavy packs to the earthy underbrush. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks red. Here I was, barely able to keep up, and everyone else was carrying an extra fifteen pounds on their back. My eyes went to Mal first, surprised to see that even he was a bit winded. Aleksander, on the other hand, might as well have been riding along in a coach. Not a strain of exertion showed on his face, not one curl was out of place and his kefta was still immaculate. I wanted to call Mal to me, to be able to talk to a friendly face, but I was breathing too hard and the words died on my lips. Some powerful Grisha I was. I sunk to the forest floor rather ungracefully, shifting so I was sitting on a tree stump. My fingers found the sides of the twisted wood, my hands curling around the dampened bark.

"Not doing well back here, huh, Sticks?"

I squinted up to Mal who was snickering at his own joke. I hadn't been called that in ages, it felt almost refreshing. Better than Sankta, at least. "Just a little out of breath," I lilted as casually as I could. More like drowning in my own pathetic sweat. He sat down in the dirt, leaning back against a fallen log crawling with moss, his arms folding. "How's your date with the Darkling going?" I allowed a smile to flicker at my lips. He cocked his head to the side in consideration before musing, "I don't think it's gonna work out." I giggled despite myself. Suddenly, I knew Aleksander was watching us intently, I could feel his eyes. I kept my gaze on Mal, reaching for his hand and pulling him into me, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back without hesitation, his hands moving to rest around my waist in a protective embrace. I savored the feeling, it was _normal_. No unnatural rush of power, no untamed and wild desire. Sweet and filled with a peaceful type of love. He pulled away first, his eyes searching mine. "Can you keep going? I don't want to lose the trail I have now."

I nodded, brushing myself off from the dirt that now clung to my dark pants. My eyes strayed to Aleksander. He was conversing with Ivan and an oprichniki, no sign that he'd seen us, though I knew he had. Reluctantly, I followed Mal up to the front of the group, rubbing my hands together to regain circulation in my fingers that were stiff with cold. Aleksander didn't acknowledge us, his low conversation unintelligible to my straining ears. After a long moment, I cleared my throat. He held up an elegant finger to them to indicate a pause. I smiled tightly as he arched a brow at me, as if to irritatedly ask, _wh_ _at do you want?_

"I'm ready to keep going." He stared at me. "What a fascinating piece of information you have bestowed upon us, Sankta," he impassively responded, turning away and continuing his conversation. I flushed an embarrassed pink color. Mal put a hand over his mouth to stifle a snort. "Oh so you're on his side now?" I grumbled, stomping towards the pile of canteens and snatching one up. I could hear him full on laughing behind me as I took a generous gulp of ice water. "Enough frivolity, we need to move ahead, now," Aleksander silenced Mal's laughter immediately. I rolled my eyes. Did he purposefully make it a game to suck any happiness out of life? I flashed Ivan a thinly veiled look of distaste as he immediately took his place next to me, shouldering his pack with an irritated scowl. This time as we departed I stayed close to the front, curious to hear any possible snatches of conversation. To my surprise, everyone walked in dead silence. Aleksander moved in his regal, calm manner as Mal set the brutal pace of a tracker hot on the heels of their target.

The sky had darkened quickly and not too long after we set up camp for the night. A scaldingly hot fire had been started by one of the Inferni, the orange flames licking high into the dark sky. We ate what little we had. Again, like all of those months ago when I had first been taken to Os Alta, I bitterly noticed Aleksander didn't take anymore than his fair share. He hadn't attempted to interact with me in any form, in fact he hadn't really talked to anyone except for the occasional report from Ivan. I studied him from where he sat by himself, continuously drinking what I presumed was kvas from a black metal flask. My teeth involuntarily sunk into my lower lip as I found his eyes. They reflected the orange of the flames as he stared into the contained inferno of heat. It cast a transfixing illusion that his eyes were on fire.

Mal abruptly brought me back to reality with a light nudge into my side. He had been chained to the log we were sitting on to make sure he didn't make a run for it, but me and Aleksander both knew if I wanted, I could easily help him escape. It was more a show of dominance than anything. "I'm sorry Mal, I'm going to go sleep, I'm still exhausted from crossing the Fold," I softly spoke on purpose, even though I doubted Aleksander could eavesdrop considering the obnoxiously loud groups of conversation filling the air. Mal frowned with a hint of hurt, but nodded. My eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment as he pressed his lips to my forehead. "I love you," I offered meekly, a weak smile on my lips as he repeated the phrase against my skin before pulling away. I climbed to my feet, my whole body aching as every joint screamed in protest.

I needed Botkin back to whip me into shape.

Dull guilt filled my chest as I approached the black tent, which also happened to be the only tent that was set up. While everyone else was sleeping in the dirt, I would most certainly not be allowed to leave the tent for the night, per Aleksander's orders. _Poor little Alina, having to sleep in a silk covered bed_. I didn't even bother taking off my clothes, simply tossing my kefta to the side and throwing myself facedown into the soft sheets. Sleep took me away in a blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	12. you did well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, school has been kicking my ass lately and im drowning in papers and assignments as we speak. and I'm sorry it's kind of on the shorter side, it just worked out that way when I had the split up the next couple chapters. I hope you guys like it, im kinda nervous for you guys to read it tbh ;I 
> 
> enjoy <33 (hopefully)

When I woke up my breaths were frosting, my whole body rigid with cold. I snatched my kefta from the ground, throwing it around my shoulders and buttoning it tightly. The tent was empty, Aleksander had to have gotten up already. I ran my tongue over my chapped lips, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand as I stood up, throwing open the tent entrance. My eyes widened. The whole world was blanketed in white, the thick snow sparkling in the cold morning light. I let out a giddy laugh, not caring that the whole entirety of the hunting party was already up and now looking at me funny from across the clearing. I gathered a handful of the powder in my hands, my skin stinging with the cold as I let it fall through my fingertips.

When I looked up, Aleksander immediately stood out like an ink spill on paper, the contrast of his black kefta against the fresh snow drawing my eyes straight to him. I caught his gaze, which was uncharacteristically troubled. Mal was hovering behind him, a similar look twisting his lips. In fact, the whole group seemed to be on edge. Aleksander beckoned for me to come over, not bothering to waste any words along with the motion. As I made my way towards them, my steps sluggish in the thick snow, I finally noticed what the collective feeling of unease stemmed from. Nichevo'ya were skittering around in the treetops, teeming wildly around our encampment and trailing shadows like smoke. "Why are they here," I immediately asked when I was within earshot, gesturing to the inhuman creatures with my index finger. Aleksander looked from Ivan to Mal, much to my surprise. He looked back at me, his tongue trailing over his lower lip in what could have been indecision. Finally, he spoke.

"There's a bounty on you, Alina. It seems the Fjerdans and Shu will both pay 10 million rubles for your head. We've already heard reports of Fjerdan assassins headed this way."

The words felt as tangible as a crushing blow to the chest, all of the breath escaping my lungs. My body felt like a separate entity. I didn't know why my knees suddenly buckled, why a whimper of despair escaped my lips as I sunk into the icy snow. It wasn't like I hadn't had someone constantly trying to kill me since I had become the Sun Summoner. But this seemed different. They were actively hunting me now with a deadly purpose. "I don't want this, I never wanted this," I dug my fingers into my hair, tugging on the ends with a desperation that left me trembling. It seized in my chest, making me gasp for air in wild panic.

Arms encircled me, pulling me to my feet. I felt limp, my head falling against their hard chest. I desperately wanted it to be Mal, but I knew as soon as his skin came in contact with mine that it was Aleksander. "No one will touch you," he grimly promised, his hands tightening around me in protective instinct. I could feel the stares, I could practically sense the judging eyes. The word swirled through my mind with a razor sharp edge. Weak. Promptly, I shoved my feelings back down my throat, straightening my back and pulling away from Aleksander grip. "We'd better hurry up and find this damn bird then," I looked to Mal, knowing my expression was colder than I meant it to be. I was proud at the strength my voice held. He dipped his head in a slight nod. Aleksander studied me, always as if I was an equation that didn't quite tally. I knew I was a hurricane of chaos, but I was done with being Alina the orphan.

I was Alina the Sun Summoner. The firebird was within my grasp, and I wasn't going to let some insignificant Fjerdan assassin stand in my way of the last amplifier. No one uttered a word as Mal turned with grim solemnity, starting to make his way up the hill. We didn't wait as everyone scrambled to clean up the camp. I needed the firebird now, and I would have it.

***

Three days.

Each passing hour seemed increasingly unbearable as we continued to follow Mal in what seemed like an aimless path around the forest. I had become increasingly irritable, partly due to my own impatience and partly due to the constant close surveillance of a combination of Ivan, nichevo'ya, and Aleksander. Though it was their job to protect me, the shadowed creatures were still harrowingly aggressive, their jaws snapping whenever I stepped out of line. The snow hadn't left, and the novelty of it had worn off. Now as I stared down at my boots as we walked, I cursed it and the bitter cold it brought. Aleksander was currently walking next to me, though we hadn't spoken in hours. My frustration was coming off me in waves, apparent in every movement.

"You need to get a handle on your emotions," Aleksander broke our silence, his gaze pointedly trained on where the snow burned and melted away under each of my footsteps. I shot him a look that would have made any other grown man cry, my lip curling into a hint of a snarl. "Yes, that's what I'm worried about as I'm being hunted down by assassins, my _composure_ , thank you," I snapped. He regarded me for a moment with such lack of emotion it seemed to prove his point of just how uncontrolled I was. "Patience is a deadly tool." I almost snorted, of course he had experience using patience to get what he wanted. "I'll keep that in mind," I dryly responded.

At that moment the wind faltered, allowing me to tilt my head up to scan our surroundings. We were back at the waterfall, which had frozen over since we'd last circled it. My eyes drifted across the frozen lake, thoughts flashing through my mind of me and Mal ice skating at the orphanage. Simpler times. My footsteps slowed as I noticed Mal had come to a sudden stop. I followed his gaze, which was trained at the top of the rock precipice. "Is anything there?" I impatiently asked, rubbing my flushed hands together in an attempt to warm them. He merely tipped his head to the side, remaining infuriatingly silent. "Well, what is it otkazat'sya?" Aleksander coolly snapped. Mal mildly gestured to the snow about ten feet from us, "Look for yourself." I followed his indication, my eyes widening with shock. Two single prints, huge and bird like, were freshly pressed into the snow. "It's here," I whispered softly, feeling excitement zip down my arms to tingle at my fingertips. Everyone fell silent, the tension growing so thick it was almost palpable.

A feathery beat of wings.

It appeared from over the top of the waterfall, like an orange lick of flame against the clouds. It was bigger than I had ever dreamed. "Take it down!" Aleksander ordered, his silver eyes coming alive with wicked excitement. A hail of gunshots and arrows exploded from behind me as, almost simultaneously, winged nichevo'ya took to the skies, collectively headed straight toward the majestic creature. The bird let out a scream akin to a battle cry, it's beak alighting with flames in preparation for attack. Mal looked to me, his eyes brooding, troubled. "You found it," I threw my arms around him, tilting my head up to the battle which had quickly dissolved into chaos.

The firebird was untouched by the waves of arrows and bullets, but the shadow creatures were viciously attacking it without restraint, a tangle of gold and black that was mesmerizing in its gruesomeness. It's fire was effective in disintegrating several of the nichevo'ya, but there were simply too many, their shadows filling the sky like a thick, dark cloud. Blood spattered the snow close to my feet as it's feathered wing was torn open in a swarm of sharp claws. The fight was short lived after, and I watched it fall from the sky with a fascinated horror.

"Alina!" Aleksander's urgent tone snapped me from my daze as his hand captured my wrist. I knew I could have a matter of seconds to kill it before it was too late. My feet propelled me forward to a desperate sprint to where it laid in the snow, angry cries painfully piercing in their volume. Blood painted the white underneath it's feathers like a twisted canvas. I could feel the heat of the mystical creature, it's eyes wide and unblinking as it struggled before me. My excitement had fallen away, I fell to my knees in front of it as the guilt overcame me like the crest of a wave. "I'm sorry," I whispered, the words grating in my throat. It thrashed, it's broken and bloodied wings a mangled mess of torn muscle and exposed bone. "Alina, kill it now." Aleksander had caught up to me. I could feel him hovering over me as I reached out, placing my hand on the creature's neck. It's feathers were soft beneath my fingers, rippling against my touch. A mournful wail rattled from its beak. "It won't survive regardless, if you ever want to feel complete for our eternity, you need to kill it now," he spoke, his voice sharp with urgency yet still somehow controlled. I knew he was right, my bare wrist was silently screaming with the need to wear the third amplifier.

My hands were trembling as I pulled the dagger I had been keeping from my pocket. It's silver blade gleamed in the reflected light of the snow. I let my fingers tighten around the leather handle, tears blurring my vision to the point where I couldn't see anymore. It's desperate eyes were lost in a haze as I brought the blade down on its neck, sinking it deep into the warm flesh. The blurriness dissipated. I had buried the blade down to its hilt. I could feel the life leaving it as its body went limp, a final breath rattling in its lungs.

I blinked, the tears falling down my cheeks as a terrible stillness fell over the clearing.

A horrified scream finally worked its way free from my lips, the guilt that roared to the surface encapsulating every fiber of my being. I wildly scrambled backwards, desperate to distance myself between me and the vicious murderer I had just become. "You did well Alina," Aleksander had leaned down, his voice like the soft caress of sin. I was sickened at the praise, every fiber of my being burning with utter shame. Tears silently streamed down my cheeks, my body contracting in on itself. "It was innocent." My voice was broken and cracked. He brushed back the wisps of hair from my face, offering a gloved hand. The cold seeping through my clothes was just enough motivation for me to take it, letting him pull me to my feet as if I was a doll. I couldn't look as several Grisha descended on the creature, harvesting its talon for the amplifier with sickening noises that made my stomach churn. Every part of me was shaking. I clutched Aleksander's kefta to still my trembling fingers, melting into the curve of his body. "I'm scared, Aleksander." His hand came to rest on mine, flooding me with the warmth of power.

The power I craved so deeply that I had willingly plunged a knife into the neck of an innocent creature.

My body tensed as the Fabrikator rose to his feet. The fetter was already almost complete, white talon with bright feathers cascading down its length like a lick of flame. I felt sick. My eyes desperately met Mal's, who was staring at me from a safe distance. I needed the confirmation from him. His ice blue orbs were mournful as he dipped his chin in the smallest of nods.

Aleksander grasped my wrist, pulling it from the fabric of his shirt and regaining my attention. I couldn't still my shaking hands as I allowed my arm to be extended forward. The air seemed to thrum with power as the weight of the fetter settled on my wrist. Panic seized in my chest, I whimpered as I tried to pull away, but they both held me still as entirely too quickly, the last amplifier was sealed, fused around my arm. At first, nothing happened. They all retreated several steps. It was deathly quiet.

Then I felt it, rising within me. The light was burning in the depths of my being, screaming with excitement. I gasped as I felt something within me break open, and all too suddenly the light was flooding out of every inch of me. All I could see was the blindingly bright light, my skin on fire with burning heat. The feeling was unlike one I had ever felt before. Power. _My power_. I threw my head back with a buoyant laugh, a floating sensation overtaking my body. I let the light pour out from within me, unable to stop myself. There seemed to be no limit to it, no end, no barriers. The walls had come down, I had every last scrap of my power at my disposal. I let the light intensify further, _further_ , increasing the heat that had settled on the surface of my body. I was the sun, the light, immortal, a _god_. I laughed again, the sound icy and bitingly sharp even to my own ears.

Finally, I looked down as I felt my feet were dangling, realizing I was, in fact, high above the ground. My fear sobered me quickly. I released the invisible grip on my power, my body immediately going limp as I crashed to the ground, knocking all of the air from my lungs. I could dimly hear my name being called, my ears ringing and my vision blurring in and out of focus. A hand on my arm jolted me back into consciousness. Mal and Aleksander were hovering over me. "Are you okay, Alina? Can you hear me?" Mal desperately asked. I nodded, my mind sluggish and my limbs heavy. "Stand up," Aleksander beckoned, his concern drowned out by elation. Mal let me lean heavily against him as I got my feet under me. My mouth fell open as I looked around. For miles, the forest was flattened. I had taken a substantial chunk out of the mountain, which now curved at an unnatural angle. The air still shimmered with heat, all of the snow had been melted away, completely gone. I had done it all. As I looked around me, everyone stared back with the same look of fearful respect. Even Mal seemed to be scared to touch me, almost cringing away from the place where I held onto him. My gaze met Aleksander's. Nothing but admiration lingered in his eyes.

_I have seen all of you Alina, and I have never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	13. better ways to waste your time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all I'm gonna say is get ready for this chapter, strap in and enjoy the ride ;)

We had made it back to our encampment in a day, record time. Mal had been banished back to the confines of the celled coach, while Aleksander and I rode in the front once again. For hours I had been restlessly shifting on the silk cushions as he worked to complete a stack of paperwork that never seemed to end. I had come to start passing the time by trying to recognize patterns in his facial expressions. His jaw muscles would tick or his left eyebrow would raise in the slightest increment when he was annoyed, he would curl his index finger over his lips if he was considering something. The sound of thick parchment flipping over was the only noise, along with the jostling of the carriage from the rough terrain. I felt like a restless child, unable to sit still.

"Can I summon?" I asked, sounding very juvenile even to my own ears. "Alina, we have gone over this, you need to harness your power in a safe environment, I don't want you setting the coach on fire," he responded evenly, not even bothering to look up. Wouldn't that be a fitting end to the war, if we both burned alive in his carriage. Not such a bad idea. "Maybe you're just scared of the possibility that I could be more powerful than you," I snarked, crossing my arms over my chest. "Whatever you want to tell yourself, Alina," he tossed back in an unworried fashion.

I stretched out on the soft velvet cushions, trying to find another outlet to distract myself from the empty ache in my chest. Was this how he felt, constantly feeling incomplete without the rush that summoning brought? The scream for power had faded to a dull roar at this point, but the echo of the feeling of when I had first taken the amplifier still sent pleasant shivers down my spine. A sigh blew through my slightly parted lips. I went back to studying him, trying to memorize the position of every strand of black curl to his hair, the exact spot where the faint white scar disrupted the perfection of his cheek. My intent gaze came to rest on his elegant fingers balancing a heavy pen stamped with his symbol. There was a split second of hesitation before the pen came into contact with the bottom of the paper. His signature was dramatically elegant, much like himself.

"There are better ways to waste your time than staring at me." His voice was cool. I rolled my eyes. Maybe he feared if someone studied him for too long they would discover a glimmer of humanity within his black soul. "You're ignoring me, what else am I supposed to do," I mumbled, my fingers flexing continually with the biting urge to summon. "Alina." The alarm in his tone was clear when he finally looked up at me, "You're glowing." I looked down, my breath hitching to find my skin was, in fact, shining with light. I hadn't even been calling to my power, I had been trying to suppress it. The glow faded as I quickly silenced the cries echoing in my chest, my body stiffening with the effort. He studied me, his fingers twitching in the ghost of a movement before he shook his head, returning to his paperwork.

I could feel the craving in my chest as my eyes slid over him. I itched for his touch, for the feeling of his skin on mine that could give me the fix of power I so desperately wanted. Was this the amplifier destroying my sanity? Was I losing myself already? Still, I couldn't stop from transferring myself to the seat next to him. His fingers whitened as he tensed. I leaned into the curve of his body, letting my breath brush against his cheek as I questioned softly, "What are you working on?" To his credit, his movements didn't falter, his pen continuing to flow in beautiful script across the paper. "War documents," he flatly responded. My eyes drifted to the exposed skin on his neck, my lips aching to press against it.

And so, without caution, I let myself lean into him, my mouth pressing a hot kiss against the vein. He hissed softly, jerking away from me. His eyes were hard as he finally turned to look straight into my eyes. "What are you playing at Alina?" His voice was filled with the suspicion of someone who had been conditioned to trust no one but himself. I truthfully didn't even know what I was doing. The only thing that consumed my thoughts was my insatiable desire to have all of him. He was the only being in the world that understood me, that could possibly understand the primally pleasurable feeling of the unbridled power that resided in our veins.

"You never turned away," I finally whispered. He never asked me to hide who I was, to hold back. His eyes darkened in reaction, an unwavering promise in their depths, "I never will." The broken feeling of Mal looking at me with such fear and distrust seemed to fade in the face of his unconditional understanding and wanting for me. He was the only one who could possibly know what I was going through, and the only one who ever would. Even if I was desperately in love with Mal, he could never see me as what I truly was.

I knew he wouldn't want to either.

Aleksander's hands were at my waist, fingers digging into the curve of my hips as I shifted onto his lap. I could feel the hard flex of his muscle as he tensed, he hadn't been expecting that. "Promise me." My words were raw with desperation. He leaned into the curve of my neck, the feeling of his breath on my bare skin making me shiver. "I promise you, Alina Starkov, I will never turn away from what you will become. I will always be there." I believed him. In some selfish way, I had needed to hear those words from someone. To have reassurance I would never be alone. My hands roamed the planes of his muscled torso as he left burning kisses down the length of my throat, his lips achingly soft. I desperately wanted to give in to the darkness that clawed at my insides, that whispered traitorously in my ears to give myself to him. But I couldn't let myself be that weak. My friends needed me. Ravka needed me. Mal needed me.

I pushed myself away, shifting off of him quickly. A spark of irritation flashed in his eyes. "I grow weary of this game, Alina," he icily spoke, the wanting in his gaze swallowed by annoyance. I opened my mouth in protest, he knew just as well how the unwanted desire constantly tore at us both. But before I could speak, he was back to flipping through the thick stack of documents, any evidence of our interaction vanishing from his body. He stretched his long legs out, crossing them at the ankles. It was infuriating the kind of immediate control he had over his emotions and desires.

I didn't attempt to talk to him again.

***

I twisted light through my fingertips, the power surging through me as I honed it into a coil like whip. Finally, with the addition of the third amplifier I could make the light tangible. It felt natural, as easy as walking or breathing. I couldn't even remember what it was like to struggle to create it anymore. Flicking my fingers outward, I grinned as it looped around the gray stone that lay in front of me in the hard packed dirt, easily tossing it up in the air. I caught it halfway through its arc on the way back down, running my thumb over the smooth edge before raising my eyebrows at Mal.

"Impressive, Sun Summoner," he allowed a small smile of admission. I knew he was still apprehensive about my newfound increase in power. "Say it again," I let the light fade, rather reluctantly, taking a step towards him. His lips twitched with humor, letting me close the space between us. "Careful, your ego might threaten the Darkling's soon," he teased softly, his hand lifting to brush his fingers against my cheek. Looking over my shoulder, I studied the swarm of people milling around the camp in preparation for the departure. Reflexively, I grabbed the collar of Mal's rumpled soldier's uniform, pulling him behind a thick tangle of trees. "I love you," I looked up at him, my mouth tilting up to meet his. I thought I heard him mumble the words back into my mouth, but I was too enraptured with the heat between us to pull away.

I could feel the sorrow on his lips as he kissed me harder, the moment burning hotter with desperation. We both knew we didn't have much time left with each other. Would this be the last moment we would have alone before he was released? More than anything I wanted to turn my back on the world and run away together at this very moment. But we both knew neither of us were that selfish. And furthermore, there was something that felt rather empty about him now. I no longer craved the feeling of him, there was no rush of power when our lips touched. I was consumed with the want for power, and he couldn't give that to me. And the dark, selfish part of me was whispering that he wasn't enough. The horrible wave of guilt at my thoughts almost left me reeling.

I pulled away, looking down so he wouldn't have to see my eyes were shining with tears. "I love you Alina, and I believe in you," he quietly spoke, "You are strong enough, and I believe it when they say goodness prevails. You're the antithesis of all that he stands for, you are the light Ravka needs." I felt a twinge at the words. The dark was just as much in me as it was in Aleksander. But it brought me comfort, his reassurance. He believed in me. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my head in his broad chest. My fingers bunched up the rough fabric of his coat as we stayed in our embrace for as long as we possibly could. The rumbling of horse hooves and the sound of my name being called pulled us back to reality. He let his arms drop from my waist, neither of us saying a word as we walked back to the cluster of horses and skiffs. I managed to keep my voice steady as I approached Aleksander, who was eyeing us in a calculated manner.

"Are we ready?"

His rosy lips curled slightly, he was considering his words. Finally, he spoke. "There are rumors of an attack," he dryly toned, "After we cross the Fold we are not stopping until we can deliver you back to Os Alta." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes to the back of my head. "Deliver me? Like a package? I can defend myself you know." A wry smile adorned his lips. "I know, Alina." He didn't further the conversation, turning away and striding towards the head skiff. Reluctantly, I followed his footsteps, a heavy cloud, dark and foreboding, hanging over my head. Trouble would find us, I was sure of it.

***

It was different when we entered the Fold this time. The shadows were still just as sinister and unnatural. But as I pushed a sphere of light outward to protect us, I felt both the light and the absence of darkness. I could feel the edges curling around my protective halo, swirling in a chaotic balance. In a chilling way, it was welcoming. Aleksander and I had been silent for the length of the passage thus far. He was leaned up against the mast, and had been for a while, staring off into the distance at the darkness. His lack of interaction had left me sulking. I played with soft ribbons of light, weaving them through my fingertips and shaping them into patterns and silhouettes of various things.

A sudden movement of his caught my attention, his eyes suddenly narrowing as he pushed himself off the wood and approached the front of the skiff, peering over the side suspiciously. After a split second he shook his head as if to dispel a thought, his back straightening. "Have the Fjerdans declared war?" I finally asked, shattering the silence as I leaned back against the edge of the skiff, my fingers curling around the slick wood. I didn't even have to focus on summoning anymore, the power flowed out of me like my breath. He copied my action, moving closer to me, his arms folding over his chest as he studied me. "No, but they won't submit as easily as Shu Han or West Ravka when we find them. If it comes to war to force them to submission, then they will have it." I felt something in my stomach twist, the light even faltering for the briefest split second. "I won't kill innocent people." My words held the promise of strength. I was his balance, I had to be, even if the call for power lusted after his promise of world domination.

He didn't have a chance to reply before the resounding crack of an explosion wracked the skiffs.

I was thrown against the deck with the force of it, hot air scalding my skin. My head slammed against the wood, perpetuating a high pitched whine to explode in my ears. The world was a blur, I heard screams, gunfire, pounding feet. Somehow by some miracle, I staggered to my feet, clutching the side of the skiff to keep me from collapsing again. When my vision cleared, all that I could see was pure chaos. The last few skiffs had been blown to pieces, men and grisha and nichevo'ya battling among the smoking wreckage, all bathed in my weak light. How could this have happened? "Alina, come with me now!" I almost vomited all over my boots as my shoulder was shaken roughly. The ringing in my ears was back, a painfully high pitched whine, drowning out Aleksander's voice as I looked up at him dazedly. His lips formed words, but I could hear nothing. Why couldn't I hear anything?

"I can't hear, Aleksander," I whispered, my words as light as a summer breeze. My body swayed as he pressed a hand to my back to steady me, a frown curling at his lips as he pressed two fingers to my temple. When he pulled his hand away, I saw my own blood, dark against his pale skin. I thought I could see his mouth form the word 'healer', but my mind was too scrambled to know for sure. A bright kefta flashed as one of the oprichniki vaulted onto the skiff with a Corporalki. His hands were around my head in a split second, the feeling making my skin itch unbearably. I felt something in my head click back into place.

Immediately the chaos exploded with intensity as my hearing was restored. "Fjerdans?" I groaned questioningly, pressing my palm to my temple. Aleksander scowled. My answer was given to me as suddenly, the silver blade of a sword was clean through the Healer's chest. He slumped to the deck in a river of blood, revealing a soldier standing behind him, branded with a black tattoo of a sun.

The Soldat Sol.

My lips parted in horror as Aleksander signaled a nichevo'ya with a flick of his wrist. "Sankta," the soldier bowed. Aleksander caught my arm in a iron grip, forcing me back. The soldier barely had time to whirl around in terror before the winged shadow creature snatched him by the shoulders, tearing him apart by his limbs. Another explosion rocked the skiff, making me fall against Aleksander for support. His arm wrapped around me possessively, his fingers digging into my side and biting into my skin. He was dangerously calm as he spoke, "Come with me, now."

"Alina!"

My heart leapt in my throat, my feet rooting to their spot on the deck as Mal vaulted onto the skiff, probably having been released by the Soldat Sol. Had he known about this? "Stay back, tracker," Aleksander hissed, his eyes blazing as inky shadows shot from his fingertips. "Fight him, Alina, we have the upper hand," Mal desperately looked into my eyes, pleading. I could feel Aleksander's fingers tighten around my waist. He had yet to touch Mal, when we all knew he could easily kill him in a half second. My heart pulled in two directions, so far that it physically hurt. I didn't have the chance to make the decision as more Soldat Sol flooded onto the deck.

Dread filled me as Aleksander's eyes hardened. "Please, just leave me or you'll die," I pleaded to them, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. They ignored me, closing in on us with gleaming swords. "Just, we can talk about this," I helplessly gripped Aleksander's kefta. The mask of controlled impassiveness had descended over the beautiful angles of his features. His hand spiraled in a circular arc, the air humming with power. The sound was sickening as he cut through the twenty or so men simultaneously. The mutilated bodies slid to the deck in pieces. I dug my fingers into my eyelids as I squeezed them shut. A shudder passed through me, making Aleksander hold onto me tighter.

"Let her go!"

The sudden voice knocked the wind of me, my breath sharply escaping my lips as my eyes peeled open. Genya. She had somehow made it onto our skiff and was now standing in front of Mal who was also miraculously untouched. Now that I cast my gaze out further, I could pick out the familiar faces among the battle. Tolya. Tamar. David. Zoya. Nadia. "Genya," I sobbed, desperately wanting to run to her. Her scars had faded, though not entirely, and her one eye blazed with hatred. "Let her go." Genya's voice only held a slight waver to give away her fear. I looked up at Aleksander, his eyes like ice chips. "She will never leave my side. You have false hope in this little skirmish, you forget you are within my realm." We all knew he was right. The words held a hard finality to them. "Alina." My name left Mal and Genya's lips almost simultaneously. My eyes were drawn to where Aleksander was holding me tightly, his fingertips still stained with my blood. It was up to me if I would allow any more blood to be on his hands. A calmness rippled through my body. "You need to leave me, I love you both but this is the only way," I whispered. I knew they could hear me despite the soft decibel of my words. I could almost feel Aleksander's satisfaction.

Then another explosion hit.

I would have been knocked off my feet had it not been for Aleksander's strong arms clasped around my waist. The world still spun unwittingly despite his hold on me, a wave of nausea passing over me yet again. My throat constricted tightly as I blinked away the dizziness, seeing Genya holding the edge of the skiff but seemingly unharmed. My whole body became rigid as my eyes flickered to Mal. He had staggered to the edge of the deck, disoriented with a stream of blood running down the side of his head. He was stumbling backwards towards a hole blown in the side of the skiff, farther and farther...

I ripped my arms away from Aleksander, throwing my hands outward to expand the light with a horrified scream. "No Mal!"

It was too late.

He had plummeted over the side into the thick darkness, the screaming of a volcra immediately assaulting my ears as he disappeared from my vision. Time seemed to move in slow motion. I threw the light out in wild abandon, illuminating the volcra that held him for one harrowing second before it disintegrated in a burst of flame. Mal's body dropped to the deck of the skiff. My movements felt slow, sluggish as I ran to him, throwing myself down next to his body.

Lifeless. His torso was shredded ribbons of flesh, blood soaking every inch of his uniform. His bright blue eyes were still open, wide, unblinking.

Gone.

A scream clawed from my lips, as horribly inhuman as a volcra's. The pain was unbearable, tearing apart every inch of my soul. I threw my arms around his bloodied body, holding him tightly into me as the tears flooded down my cheeks. Every heartbeat slammed in my chest, torturous, like a dagger had been lodged into my ribcage. I looked up to see Genya and Aleksander hovering over me, all signs of hostility having vanished in the presence of my pain. I couldn't help but look to Aleksander. "W-we need a healer, please get him a healer," I pleaded, sobs tearing at my throat. His eyes held a level of shock I knew wasn't fabricated. He hadn't expected this to happen.

"He's dead Alina, we can't bring him back." His voice was softer, gentler than it had ever been.

I hated him for it.

"You're useless!" I felt the scream claw at my raw throat. I couldn't help the rocking motion that overtook my body as I squeezed Mal tighter into my chest. But it wasn't Mal. It was his shell, his body. Not Mal. He was gone because of _me_. Guilt hit me so hard it felt like I would be crushed simply by its weight. None of this was worth it. I attempted to wipe the tears from my cheeks. My bloodied hands left a streak of red in replacement. "Tell them to stand down," I gasped, hot tears rolling down my face as I looked back up at Genya. There would be no more death because of me. "Alina-" she began to protest. I couldn't hold back the tortured pain in my voice as I cut her off, "Tell them to stand the fuck down, Genya, or I swear I'll let the light go out and kill us all!" None of it mattered. Everything else faded away as I held the dead body of my first love in my arms, the orphan boy who had become my soldier.

 _I am become a blade_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT I KILLED HIM MWAHAHAHAHAH sorry not sorry 
> 
> if you want to know the soldat sol infiltrated their camp while they were away and then hid in the bottoms of the skiffs that's how they got in the Fold (I couldn't find a way to fit that background in to the storyline without making it obvious that I was explaining how it happened) so just know that I did put some thought into making it realistic of how they were able to attack. 
> 
> I have a surprise for you guys next chapter and I think you'll love it so get ready for that as well
> 
> as always feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	14. don't thank me yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what SURPRISE this whole dang chapter is in aleksander's point of view. so. this was one of the hardest chapters I have ever had to write because obviously his character is insanely complex and it's so fucking hard to write from his mind. so even more so than any other chapter, your comments and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged!! (please be nice about it though eek) and if you somehow end up liking it, please let me know because I legit slaved over this chapter like I can't even count the amount of revision cycles I went through. and tf it's not even super long so I'm kind of the worst.. anyways moral of the story is that I suck 
> 
> try to enjoy oh god im scared

Aleksander's P.O.V

Raw pain. Every torturous ounce of Alina's pain thrummed through my body with every single breath, the tether a yawning chasm of her emotion and uncontrolled chaos. Long ago, the minute we had entered the coach, in fact, she had buried herself deep in my chest and had yet to move away. Her body had never ceased trembling, though her sobs had faded into nothing more than soft whimpers as days stretched past.

In truth, I felt nothing at the death of the tracker, though it had been interestingly unexpected. He had been an irritating thorn in my side, yes, but regardless, he would have been swept into dust by the winds of time, just like all of the others.

But for my Alina, I couldn't help but feel an inexplicable grief at her misery. Empathy? A strange, unfamiliar emotion, but that had to have been it.

My arms instinctively tightened around her fragile body as her sobs resumed, fragmented and raw. I found my fingers stroking through her golden hair in an effort to comfort her. Another strangely unfamiliar urge.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Her words were broken, fractured. Again, my grip tightened, this time more so perhaps from my own possessiveness or jealousy, but I knew she wanted no words to leave my lips so I remained silent.

The coach jostled slightly as we passed over uneven terrain. We were still days away from Os Alta, but I had made it explicitly clear we wouldn't rest until we were back within the palace walls. There were still those who were hunting Alina. 

After the battle on the Fold, we had set out for Os Alta on just as brutal a pace as before. Minus a repulsive tracker and with the addition of the few of Alina's pitiful followers that had still been alive when they surrendered. I could feel the irritation prickling at my fingertips. Whispers in my subconscious eagerly tempted me to reward the traitors with the torturous deaths they so achingly deserved. But I couldn't kill them, no, my precious little saint had endured enough suffering without me executing all of her friends as well. The thought was almost infuriating, that I couldn't make an example out of them solely because somehow I couldn't stand the thought of Alina hating me even more than she already did.

Weakness was an ugly thing, even if mine was contained in a breathtaking vessel that shone like the sun itself.

She curled up tighter against me, almost as if she sensed my thoughts. Her hands grasped for mine, intertwining our fingers as she pulled them into her chest. I felt the immediate jolt of power flow through me at our skin touching, but I was well practiced in not letting it effect me externally. Though the very fact that she was holding my hand for comfort left my control in a dizzying pit of something like desire. A softer echo of it maybe. "Aleksander." My name on her lips was as electrifying as any other time she said it. "Alina." My voice was as calm and collected as it always was. She shuddered, leaning into the curve of my neck. I almost hissed as her breath washed over my skin. I held onto my control, invisible fingers clenching at the reins of restraint. My jaw set. I wanted to devour her, to claim every inch of her skin under my touch. To rid her of the taste of the otkazat'sya. "Don't leave me, ever," she almost sobbed again, her raw voice disrupting my thoughts. I would never let her out of my grasp, she knew as well as I did. Still, I nodded in confirmation, my hand cascading down the slender curve of her waist.

 _T_ _he problem with wanting, is that it makes us weak_.

"I will never leave you Alina."

***

However surprisingly, we made it back to gates of Os Alta uneventfully. As the string of coaches and oprichniki on horseback passed through the palace walls, heavy pounding of the peasants and commoners began the thrum on the sides of our coach. They wailed for their Sankta Alina, their desperation emboldening them, and subsequently causing them to be violently shoved back to clear a path. Deep within the locked cage of emotion I held inside myself I felt a prickle of something akin to anger, maybe jealousy. No one ever revered the dark. And I was always the monster for wanting to protect my Ravka.

I examined the feeling that had risen to the surface in a detached manner before burying it amidst a tangle of other useless emotions I had previously locked away.

Alina stirred, having fallen asleep in my arms hours ago. "Are we home?" Her voice was as strained as a sail in a wild storm, dried tear stains glistening on her cheeks. A brief memory surfaced of her telling me she had no home. My lips curled slightly in the ghost of a smile. "We're home," I confirmed simply. She nodded, her eyes closing again as she melted back into the curve of my body. "Please don't hurt them," she whispered into the fabric of my kefta, referring to her loyal band of followers. Again, the darkness in me wanted to string them up by their throats as an example for all to see, to make Alina beg for their lives and fall to her knees in front of me.

"They will be unharmed if they cooperate," I spoke, the way she flinched indicating my words were icier than I intended. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt as the coach came to a stop. "I can't face them," she was almost pleading, and the twisted part of me loved it. "You don't have to," I murmured. If anyone so much as looked at her wrong, I would cut them open and hang them up to bleed out in front of all of Os Alta. She clung to me as I moved to get up from the silken cushions.

And I let her.

Her arms circled my neck, her legs latched tightly around my torso as I stood up. With my hands occupied holding her feather light body against mine, I kicked the coach door open, stepping out into the bitingly cold air. I ignored the suggestive look Ivan insinuated with an ugly smirk, one I had to restrain myself from cutting him in half for. "Should I send arrangements for the executions of the prisoners, moi tsar?" Ivan asked, his voice no doubt pointedly loud enough to reach the prisoner's coach. I could feel Alina's fingers tighten at my neck, digging into my hair. It took me a brief second to refocus. "I will have them brought before me for trial half past the hour." I didn't spare him another glance, ascending the marbled stairs into the warm sanctuary of the palace.

"Thank you."

The words were feather soft, almost lost. My response was reflexively involuntary.

"Don't thank me yet, Alina."

She would be cursing my name if she knew what I was planning to do to them if they didn't submit to my rule. Her body tensed, but it was apparent she didn't have the strength to fight me as she relaxed again almost immediately. My steps echoed on the polished floor as we finally entered my chambers. The bed was swathed with silk, looking especially inviting after our weeks sleeping in the woods.

I could sense that the tears had begun to flood down her porcelain cheeks again without having to even see her face. 

"I don't want to be alone, I keep seeing it happen over and over," her voice dissolved back into sobs.

She was broken. Broken, but not in the way I had always wanted her to be. This was a ugly, twisted thing that was almost mildly frightening.

She held onto me in protest as I laid her down on the black sheets, gently, as if she was a porcelain doll that might shatter if I handled her too roughly. "Don't leave, not yet," she begged through her tears. I pulled back to study her. My eyes shamelessly ran along her golden eyes puffy with tears, her hair wavy and glossy against the pillow. Every inch of her strained toward me. It satisfied me in the darkest way.

"Aleksander."

The sound of her begging for me, using my name, was enough to shatter my resolve. The feeling was repulsive, to peel my fingers away from my steady grip on control as I settled onto the bed next to her.

She climbed on top of me, her body flush against mine as she curled into my chest. The way she fit perfectly against me was almost intoxicating. I hated it. I wanted to hate it. Cautiously, I let my hands drift to her waist as she lightly rested her burning cheek against my collarbone. I couldn't help a sigh from escaping my lips, I pulled her even closer. A curious intimacy I had never yet experienced in my centuries of living enveloped us, not one of a sexual nature, but of a belonging that seemed innately right. Eventually she drifted off to my hands caressing through her hair as I drank in and savored every part of her gentle touch.

I never wanted to leave. And it disgusted me. 

***

Leaning back against the hard throne, I crossed my legs at the ankles. "Bring them in." My voice rang through the room with an authoritative air, perpetuating Ivan and several oprichniki to yank the prisoners into view from the hall. My gaze drifted over them as they were dragged forward in their heavy iron shackles until they were directly beneath me. I let the silence linger, content with their obvious discomfort. There was the two from that bastard prince's ship. A boy with a filthy cat. Nadia. Zoya. David. Genya. I let my gaze linger on her for a beat. She met my stare with her one good eye, the unyielding defiance as fiery as her red hair. The scars I had given her still littered her once perfect skin.

"Well?" My voice was cool, unbothered as I broke the thick silence, a calculated tilt of my head. "Just kill us already, we know that's what you're planning," Zoya spoke matter of factly. Blunt, that one. My fingers drifted to rest against my lips, my mind flickering back to Alina. How she must look sleeping in my chambers, so broken and vulnerable and yet still the epitome of perfection.

Weakness was an ugly thing. Silently, I cursed her.

"In fact, I'm prepared to grant you amnesty," I forced a pleasant tone. The pure shock of their expressions was almost as satisfying as seeing the life drain from their pathetic eyes. But not quite. "You're showing us mercy?" Genya narrowed her eyes. She knew by experience my capacity for it was relatively nonexistent. I held her gaze, keeping my expression unreadable. "Bow before me and pledge your allegiance, and all will be... forgiven," I felt the unfamiliar word roll off my tongue after a pause.

"Put it down!"

An oprichniki had drawn their weapon, the gun trained on the large privateer. My lips curled as I noticed his hand was outstretched, ready to tighten into a fist. A Heartrender. "Tolya," the girl snapped to the other softly, "You really think it would be that easy?" "Now we'll never know, Tamar," he growled in response. The hand lowered. The oprichniki continued to point the gun at his heart. I stayed comfortably silent, biding my time. They all knew I owed them nothing. "And what if we don't? Bow?" It was David who had spoken this time, his voice small. I couldn't keep the satisfaction from my words. "Then you'll be living out the rest of your days in the Fold. As volcra." My fingers curled over my lips as varying degrees of horror and alarm flickered on their faces.

"So? The time is expiring on my offer," I drawled, lazily flicking my hand. Two nichevo'ya appeared in a curl of shadows, flanking either side of me before advancing. Even the oprichniki were uneasy, as everyone always was in the presence of my merzost. I savored their horror. Their weak trembles of fear were painfully obvious, but a level of stubbornness seemed to hold in their eyes, annoyingly resilient. They still had some semblance of hope. I almost hissed in irritation. If these insignificant specks didn't give in, I would be the one paying the price of Alina's wrath. For eternity, possibly. Instead, I let my eyes soften with what would be deciphered as emotion. "You don't think your friend Alina has suffered enough with the death of her tracker? She will have to endure losing all of her friends as well, and that will be no fault but your own." A soft, subtle, sorrowful curl of the lips, a hint of remorse with a measured lowering of the eyes. Silence thickened the room.

It quickly became apparent that my manipulation was delightfully successful. I could see their resolve dying like the last ember in the ashen remnants of a fire. I stood up, my steps echoing on the glossy marble as I approached Genya. My voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper of its own accord. "Bow." She gave me a look of pure hatred that I relished, her eyes blazing. But it faded, as slowly she sunk to one knee in complacency. One by one, they all swiftly repeated the movement, hands clenched at their sides. I suppressed the smirk that tempted to curl at my lips as I took in the sight. "Swear your allegiance," I ordered sharply. A scattered jumble of 'I swear' and 'moi tsar' chorused in response. I let them linger, savoring the beautifully dominant moment. Alina's loyal followers, sworn to me. "Take them away," I waved two fingers to signal the oprichniki.

Now I just had the Lantsov boy to deal with, and then Ravka would be mine. I didn't stop the grin from turning my mouth upward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kms I really hope you liked pls give me some love if you did because im an insecure lil bitch


	15. live with me forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a mixture of alina and aleksander's pov and I tried to incorporate both of them into one scene so that turned out kinda interesting haha. tbh this is more of a filler chapter because obviously alina is gonna be sad her fuck boi mal died so whatcha gonna do. 
> 
> also, GUYS!! we reached over 1000 hits and 50 kudos, which was my goal for this fic!! the fact that we're not even to the halfway point makes me so excited that you guys actually like the story that much. so thank you :) 
> 
> please enjoy <3

I had stopped crying hours ago. I had run out of tears, a river run painfully dry. Sleep took me away in brief snatches, but every time I closed my eyes, flashes of volcra and bloodied bodies tore me from the comfort of my sheets in a mess of sweat and screams. I stared out the window at the view of the palace grounds and the rolling hills that lay beyond, what I once would have described as breathtaking. Now, I felt nothing. There was a newfound emptiness, a hollowness that threatened to consume me. And a flicker of something else, akin to an acceptance of my fate. Though Mal's death had been especially horrible, I would have to go through it all over again as each one of my friends died. Leaving me with nothing.

 _Not nothing_ , I corrected my internal monologue, _just_ _him_. We were infinite, the only real sure thing I could hold onto in this moment. And now, as I trembled and sobbed and screamed my throat raw over the death of just one of the people I held dear to my heart, I knew I couldn't survive it alone. I couldn't kill the one person that would be left.

 _It's harder when you like them, you mourn them more_.

My eyes drifted to the door as I heard the turn of the golden knob. Dull surprise flickered through me as the door swung open to reveal a scowling Ivan. "You have five minutes, then she's going back." His voice was rough, but not as rough as it could have been. He shoved a body forward. I tensed as a shock of red hair enveloped me, Genya's arms latching around my body so tightly I could barely breathe. "I'm so sorry Alina," she mumbled into my shoulder, her voice thick with grief.

The tears resurfaced. Apparently I still had more to give.

My eyes stung as she pulled away, her gaze searching mine. "He pardoned us." Her words were quiet. I let the ghost of a smile flicker across my lips. "After some begging and required reverence, I assume?" I dryly toned, knowing he wouldn't have let them off so easily just because I had cried to him. Her mouth twisted into something like a grimace as she nodded. Ivan knocked twice on the door, indicating our time was close to expiring. She took my hands, her shockingly green eyes piercing mine. "We'll get you out of here, and we'll get revenge for Mal," she promised grimly. Hearing his name spoken aloud nearly took all of the breath out of me. A pain pressed against my ribs like a physical dagger had been buried between the bone. "It's all futile Genya," I shook my head, my throat painfully tight, "We're bound together. I'll find a way to stop him, but it certainly won't involve you. I won't have any more blood on my hands from the people I love."

She opened her mouth in protest, but the door slammed open to cut her off. "Times up," Ivan gruffly announced, as if the loud bang hadn't been enough indication. Genya gave me a look of such pity I wanted to jump out the window and end it all already. "I'll see you soon," she whispered, reaching forward and wiping the tears from under my eyes. The faint prickling of my skin told me she had also taken the liberty of quickly fading my dark bags. Ivan grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her away and out of the chambers. And I was alone once again.

The tears came in a hot wave that took me into the depths of sleep.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

I shifted irritably in my chair at the obscene stuffiness of the hut, the fire blazing hot as always. My legs were crossed at the ankles, my arms folded over my chest in a guarded manner even if my mother couldn't see me. The gaping darkness where her eyes should have been seemed to pierce right through me even without her eyesight. We sat in silence, save for the crackle of the fire, mirroring each other's posture. "What have you done to the girl." Her tone insinuated she knew everything, she just wanted me to admit it to her. "The amplifiers are complete. We found the firebird."

An exhale filled the room, almost a hiss, but obviously a sound of disapproval. "You continue to prove yourself more foolish every day, boy," she snapped. I could feel the temptation of my anger rising to match hers, but I forced myself quiet before I responded. "The tracker she loved was killed on the Fold." Her hands tightened around her cane, her lips twitching. "Your doing, I presume?" she accused mildly. The comment stung. "No." I kept my response laconic. "Then you got exactly what you wanted," she sneered, "Why are you here with your old hag of a mother? Go slaughter your enemies with your little weapon."

I didn't know why I had came, and that fact infuriated me. We hadn't spoken since I had ordered her to resume the Grisha lessons, and that interaction had left me with a bruise that had lingered for weeks. I rubbed my temple with my index finger in an effort to calm myself. Only my own mother could get under my skin like this. "All of this," I gestured vaguely even though she couldn't see me, "Was for you. It was what _you_ wanted. And yet you still see me as nothing more than a failure. We lived as fugitives, now we will live as the highest royalty." She had grown uncharacteristically quiet. I reached for the untouched glass of kvas on the table next to me, thumbing over the cool rim. "I failed you in raising you to hunger for power," she gravelled, the shadows in her eyes seeming to flicker, "But you, my son, it is your doing that you don't know when to stop. Not with Ravka, and certainly not with the girl."

I could feel my control slipping at the mention of Alina. "You know nothing of what I do with the girl," I hissed, my fingers tightening around the glass. My hands shook with the tension, I was tempted to crush it within my grip as she laughed mockingly. "Do you truly care for her? Love her? Tell me that and maybe I'll believe that it's not just another power grab for your little game of world domination." Something quieted within me. Love. Even thinking the word was unfamiliar territory. "You know as well as I that I can't say that."

Alina's P.O.V

My feet had taken me to Baghra's hut, for what reason, I didn't know. My fist was poised over the wooden door to knock, but hesitated when I heard voices. A muffled, bitter laugh, then a question that was unintelligible. I bit down on my lip in surprise to hear Aleksander's voice in reply.

"You know as well as I that I can't say that."

I knocked, stepping back at the voices quieted. "Come in quickly and don't let the heat out," Baghra snapped. I almost smiled at the familiar phrase. Pushing the heavy door open, I quickly shut it behind me. Aleksander's gaze pierced through me, his slate eyes unreadable as he reached for a glass, bringing it to his lips and downing the kvas in one smooth motion. "What do you want, girl?" Baghra raised an eyebrow, which looked especially haunting when there was no eye beneath it, just a dark void of emptiness. "I-" I hesitated, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. A girl in the presence of two ancient powers, burdened with an eternity on their shoulders. My fingers twisted as both of them stared at me with the same blank expression, offering no assistance.

Like mother like son, apparently.

"I need help, on how to deal with death," My voice was surprisingly strong until the last word, almost choking on it as if it was a tangible object. My throat became painfully tight as Mal's lifeless eyes consumed my mind. Baghra stood up, her gnarled fingers curling around her cane. I could feel Aleksander's gaze, cool but intense as I desperately tried to blink back the tears before Baghra sensed my weakness. Her hands came to a rest, one on my shoulder, the other around my wrist that held the firebird, her fingers digging into my skin. I shifted uncomfortably, but her grip stayed tight, the pressure increasing. "It will never get better, and you're a fool if you try to convince yourself otherwise. There are two paths to take. Kill yourself when the pain is too great, or become like my son over here and remold yourself into something incapable of love or affection." Every word was like a sharp blow, knocking the wind out of me, until I was shaking uncontrollably in her unrelenting grasp.

Aleksander stood up, his eyes dark. "Thank you mother, for that wonderful encouragement. Now she knows where I get it from." She turned, her cane shooting out and whacking him in the shin with a surprising amount of force. He hissed, sending her a murderous glare that I'm sure wouldn't have fazed her even if she could see it. He reached for my hand, pulling me into him in an effort to still my trembling. I let myself fold into his arms, desperately clinging to him like he would be able to keep my frail body from shattering. "It's been a pleasure, as always mother," he dryly spoke, insinuating it was in fact, not a pleasure. She made a gesture that implied she couldn't have cared less. I let Aleksander lead me out the door, but he paused on the doorstep.

"There's a third option," he mused, his lips over my ear, "Live with me for forever."

***

"Alina, you have visitors," Genya burst into Aleksander's chambers without hesitation, making my body stiffen in a split second of fear before relaxing. "I told the guards I wanted to be left alone," I looked at her under miserable, lidded eyes from the comfort of the bed. She looked especially stunning today, her fiery red hair cascading in a glossy wave over the red kefta she had newly been gifted. I couldn't stop the bitterness from curling at my mouth. I had avoided mirrors since Mal's death, I knew I most likely looked like death myself.

She crossed the room swiftly, latching to my arm and pulling me from the bed with so much force I thought my thinned arm might snap. My feet sunk into the plush black carpet as a soft whine escaped my lips. Her grip was iron around my wrist. "At least come out to the common rooms," she asked in a manner that told me she wasn't actually asking. The sadness that clung to me like a leech, sagging my shoulders and sucking the life from my body, seemed to dull under her gentle touch as she smoothed my hair back. A sigh filled my chest, but I grasped for the black kefta I had thrown carelessly to the side last night, draping it around my shoulders over my night clothes.

Genya smiled in approval, pulling me along behind her like a rag doll out of the dark chambers into the more common area. I scarcely had time to let out a startled intake of breath before I was enveloped in a tangle of arms belonging to Zoya and Nadia. "You're an idiot," Zoya snapped, but somewhere underneath the surface the words held relief. She was glad I was okay, and it shocked me. I pulled away, blinking back heavy tears that lurked near the edges of my vision. Harshaw and David were hovering a few feet away, with David looking especially uncomfortable at all of the physical affection.

"It's really good to see you all," I mumbled, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion doubling on my shoulders. "Sit," Nadia patted the velvet couch, a tempting invitation, especially with it being close to the crackling fire. My knees more buckled than anything as I sunk to the cushion, resting my elbows on my knees. "How are you," Zoya asked as she sat down next to me, a larger question was enveloped within the more innocent one. She meant to ask how I was dealing with Mal's death. I met Genya's eye, who had taken the seat opposite of me. "I'm fine," I uttered without much emotion, looking away and into the burning flames.

How could I explain the roaring storm of despair that threaten to consume me at any moment? How could I explain that the only thing that quieted it was the feeling of being in Aleksander's arms?

I swallowed my nausea as David finally spoke, quiet and contemplative next to a curious Harshaw. "How are you going to beat him." He didn't have to say his name for me to know he was referring to Aleksander. The bitterness and clear emotion in his voice was startling. I couldn't breathe, my lungs shriveling in my chest as I felt the tears resurface, the wave stronger and more forceful than before. "I can't deal with this right now, I can't be your leader," I replied resentfully, my nails raking through my tangled hair. I couldn't look at any of them, I wanted to banish them away and never have to see their expectant faces again. A hand came to rest on my back, I didn't dare look up to see who. "Let her mourn. She doesn't need this interrogation." It was Harshaw that spoke, surprisingly. I dimly remembered him talking about losing his parents, he was familiar with the icy talons of grief. I wanted to curl up and cry until I couldn't anymore.

And when I sent them all away, that's exactly what I did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)


	16. i want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is relatively long, lol I'm patting myself on the back ;) a heads up that even though I really do wish I could update every day, chapters will come more slowly over the next few weeks because I'm gearing up for midterms and I have a shitload of homework and stuff to do. so theres that. on the plus side I really like how this chapter turned out and I hope you guys do too! 
> 
> please enjoy <3

True to Aleksander's word, my friends had officially been pardoned. Genya stayed with me every day in the confines of Aleksander's dark chambers, twirling golden pins through my hair and filling me in on all of the various stories I had missed. Nikolai was alive and well and had a castle in the mountains, a hidden fortress. He had built more prototypes of his flying ships and had used them to wreak havoc on Ravka's northern borders. I vaguely remembered Aleksander briefly losing his temper over it in a meeting once.

But as much as she tried to comfort me day after day, despite her efforts I felt myself slipping into a near comatose state of being. Food tasted like ash on my tongue, the color from the world seemed to have faded, my emotions dulled to a point of non-feeling. I was empty, as if everything of substance inside of me had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. "For someone who stays in her room all day I'd expect your bags to be better," Genya sighed as she trailed her fingers over my face, fading the imperfections. I let her, I didn't have the strength to resist as I limply sat on the edge of the window seat. She drew back, inspecting her work before catching sight of my miserable expression.

"Are you sleeping, Alina?" I let silence fall between us, refusing to look at her and instead training my gaze on the warm rays of light filtering through the window. "No." I didn't have the strength to lie. Every night, the nightmares plagued me to the point where I would still be awake when Aleksander would come to bed in the depths of darkness. In the past few weeks, I had grown especially skilled at fooling him into thinking I was unconscious, so every night his lips would graze my forehead in his own way of saying good night. There wasn't a single time that I would close my eyes, without the visions getting worse. Nightmares of Mal, volcra, and the firebird would come almost instantly. Replayed over and over were Mal's torn body dropping to the skiff or my hands plunging the knife into the firebird. "You can't blame yourself," Genya finally spoke, her voice dripping with pity and concern. _I can and I do._ Instead I nodded in agreement, not having the strength to argue over the subject yet again.

"Moya tsaritsa."

My eyes drifted to the door lethargically, flatly calling, "Come in." To my complete surprise, Tolya and Tamar stepped over the threshold into the room. I hadn't seen them since the first day we arrived back at Os Alta; Aleksander had immediately put their talents to use on the border. Tamar embraced me without warning, her strength almost crushing my frail body as she threw her arms around me. "We're going to get you out," she murmured into my ear with a confidence that terrified me. I pulled away, feeling something inside me steel. "I refuse to let you risk your lives for me," I shook my head, my hands clenching and unclenching.

_A bloodied, ripped torso._

"He's killing you, Alina, look at you!" Tamar exclaimed, looking to a stoic Tolya, who dipped his head in affirmation.

_A dagger buried amidst bloodied feathers._

"I can't lose anyone else, not now." My breaths were short and fast, panic threatening to seize me. I hooked my fingers through the second fetter, kneading my raw thumb against its rough edge. It had replaced the rubbing of my scar as my nervous tick, and the skin on my finger was angry and ripped from the repetitive movement. "Just," my eyes closed, a shuddered breath rattling in my lungs, "Not now. Not right now." Genya's hand came to a rest on top of mine, her green eyes meeting Tamar's with a purposeful intensity. "Okay, Alina," she caved. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, my shoulders slumping forward.

"So I take it Nikolai is working with the Apparat now?" I questioned softly. The three of them shared a look before nodding. "How is he doing?" An ache bloomed in my chest. I could have used some witty banter to take my mind off things. "He's officially taken control of the war effort from the king," Tolya rumbled, his voice low. I nodded, my blood cooling with icy dread. In the inevitable battle that would come, what would I do? What _could_ I do? "I'd like to sleep now, thank you guys for visiting," I quietly spoke, casting my eyes at the dark floor. I could almost hear what they were thinking. Who was this weak, lifeless girl? Certainly not the Alina they had put their trust in to follow. I had nothing left to give them, and they would realize that in time. "Sleep well Alina," Genya sighed. Their footsteps faded.

***

I still hadn't slept, maybe partly due to the fact that Aleksander and I hadn't had a full conversation since Baghra's hut a week ago. The only part of my days that brought me any remote level of feeling and emotion was when I summoned. Even then, a tinge of bitterness hollowed out my cheeks every time the light glowed from my fingertips and the power surged through my body, it was now a source of reminder of what my greed had cost me.

It was late, after dinner, and I had slunk back to Aleksander's chambers following an uneventful meal. Surprisingly, my daily herring and rye had recently been replaced with decadent meals of garlic rolls and chicken. Most likely because of my increasingly thinning body, an effort to encourage me eat more without being painfully obvious. For the first time in weeks it seemed, I was restless, my fingers twitching at my sides as I stared at myself in the ornate mirror. My body ached for the feeling of power, but at times I resented the light, and now I couldn't bring myself to call to it. Only one other thing could give me the same feeling I was desperate for.

I hesitated.

There was no denying Aleksander had distanced himself from me since I'd lost Mal. He knew I partly blamed him, and I could sense both his jealousy and frustration that I still cared for my loyal otkazat'sya. I hadn't realized I had pushed the door open, my bare feet taking me down the hallway. There was one place he would be at this time of night. I made my way through the twisting array of hallways, ignoring the oprichniki blatantly following me, eventually stopping at a door marked with black and his ominous eclipse. I had only been to his office a few times before. My fingers curled into a loose fist, rapping against the hard wood. There was a moment of silence before his smooth voice, muffled from behind the door, cut through the silence.

"Come in."

My fingertips curled around the cold metal doorknob, pushing it open.

He was bent over his desk, his dark hair falling into his eyes, a single candle flickering next to him as he sifted through stacks of documents. I opened my mouth to speak, startling when he spoke first.

"You should be asleep." He didn't look up, his brow crinkled slightly as he scanned a paper. "I wanted to see you," I murmured, my gaze fastened on the way his fingers splayed out over the parchment. "Here I am, Alina," he flatly responded, his grey eyes ambiguous. I couldn't stop the sigh from escaping my lips. Warmth was not his specialty. "I wanted to talk to you," I pressed, moving to the edge of his desk and leaning against the edge. He had yet to look up.

"About."

Frustratingly laconic.

I sighed again in a more irritated manner. "Just in general," I waved my hands in exasperation, satisfied when he finally looked up. His gaze trailed my body, drinking in every inch of me.

"I'll never be your tracker."

The words hit me by surprise, but even more so the resentment that tangled through them. "I don't expect you to be," I softly replied, making him shift. "What do you want then, Alina," he bluntly asked. We both knew the tether that connected us was a factor of our attraction to each other, but not enough to bring me here, to seek him out. "I want-" I hesitated. What did I want? "I just want you to hold me," I whispered softly, my brown eyes meeting his gray ones. There was no hesitation as immediately his hands captured my waist, pulling me gently into his lap. He allowed no space between our bodies, but it wasn't needed, we fit perfectly together.

My hands latched around his neck and I buried my head into his hard chest. A sigh, this time of contentment, left me as his fingers twined through my hair, his face resting against the curve of my neck. His slow, even breaths washed over my skin, I could feel the steady beating of his heart against my hand. Undeniably human. "I don't want to be alone," I murmured, getting lost in the feeling of him, all hard edges and yet still somehow comforting. It was so easy to let myself drown in our connection, to try and pretend we were anything but what we were. That he was anyone but the Darkling. There was a long moment of silence as his breaths flushed against my neck.

"I don't want to be alone either. I want you, Alina."

My heart almost stopped. There it was, what I had been waiting for, hoping for, desperate for. His lips were warm against my skin as suddenly they were trailing along the vein of my neck. I opened my mouth to speak, but he shushed me softly. "Just let it be, Alina," he spoke roughly, not willing to address what he had just admitted. His fingers were splayed along the curve of my spine, pushing me closer still as his lips traveled across my collarbone, my jaw, my cheek. I shivered, letting him drink in every inch of my skin.

 _More_.

The thought plucked at the tether, buzzing through the both of us. I wanted more of him. The air grew hot.

My back hit the hard wood of the desk, the scattered papers forgotten as his lips were on mine, greedy and all consuming. It took my breath away, _he_ took my breath away, pulling it from my body like it belonged to him.

 _More_.

He ran his fingers along the front of my silk blouse, searching for a way to undo it. My breath hitched as he let out a soft growl, and suddenly it was ripped from my body, in pieces from his impatience. His touch ran down the planes of my hips, my stomach, my breasts. I tilted my head back, my breath coming in gasps now as an unbearable heat pulsed between my legs.

 _More_.

My hands grasped for his shirt, fingers undoing the buttons before I could think better of it. I slid it from his muscled shoulders, throwing it to the floor as his lips moved against mine, his need matching my own with every movement, every heartbeat. My hips ground into his, the moans that poured from my lips sinfully obscene. His hands were everywhere, grasping at every inch of bare skin he could find to claim as his own. Involuntarily, my fingers glowed with light, unable to suppress the power he amplified within me, he pulled it from me as easily as my breath. I could feel the barest smile on his lips against my neck now as his fingertips flicked, prompting wisps of shadows to playfully chase my ribbons of light.

My breath caught.

Suddenly my eyes were tightly shut, somehow stinging with the threat of tears in the midst of desire. He immediately noticed my body tense, pulling away. Our eyes met, gray staring into gold. I waited for him to ask me what was wrong, but Aleksander was one to sit and let others explain themselves. "It feels like a betrayal," I finally spoke, my cheeks flushed and my lips slightly swollen still. His eyes flashed. I grabbed for his hand before he could rip himself away. "It feels like a betrayal because of how right it feels when I'm with you." His grip tightened around my fingers, but he said nothing. I couldn't help but notice that however subtly, his breaths were labored as well.

"I loved him, Aleksander," I cautiously spoke, seeing seething irritation spark in his eyes, "He was the only thing that I had, I waited for him for my whole life." His eyes had hardened, darkened. He yanked me into a sitting position so I was closer to being level with his gaze. "I waited for you for hundreds of years!" he hissed, dangerously close to raising his voice. I blinked, my heart in my throat as he quickly regained his composure. "It's not a betrayal if we were always meant to be together," he calmly worded, though his voice was quiet with something like vulnerability. _It is if the person is a cold blooded murderer_. I kept the thought buried. "Maybe we're meant to be killed together, the world would be better off." He studied me, I knew he wasn't quite sure what to make of my words. "The world needs us, otherwise they will destroy themselves with their idiocracy." I almost laughed with the surety he spoke with. "They aren't all fools, Aleksander," I shook my head, suddenly acutely aware that we were both shirtless and arguing like a dysfunctional couple. "But they are weak," he loosely folded his arms over his bare chest. I tilted my chin up, holding his gaze, "Just because you are more powerful doesn't mean you are a better man then any of them." His reply was almost instantaneous.

"Then make me a better man."

His expression gave away nothing, I couldn't tell if he was sincere. "Only if you'll let me, Aleksander," I sighed. As I shifted, a paper fluttered off the desk, landing on the floorboards under my dangling feet. Both of our eyes fastened on it. It was a decree that the 'Lantsov prince' was a wanted war criminal to be executed, still yet to be signed by his official stamp and signature. My eyes narrowed. "Alina," he husked, catching my wrist as I slid off the desk. "How many friends of mine will you kill before you realize it will only push me further away?" I bit out, "I don't know what you truly want from me. But this? It will never make me want you or love you Aleksander. Never."

He wanted to be my only refuge, but I would despise him for forever if that became a reality. He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around my wrist, resting just above the firebird. His power pulsed through me, taking my breath away for a brief moment. We stood there for what could have been an eternity, half clothed but looking nowhere but each other's eyes. His free hand lifted, tracing the line of my cheek gently with his fingertips. "You make me so weak," he murmured almost absentmindedly, his eyes flickering with shock like he hadn't meant to actually say the words. I let my body mold into his as he pulled me into him. My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard me say it.

"Good."

***

"Do I really more lessons? I have all of the amplifiers," I sighed dismally as I followed Aleksander out into the remnants of another chilly morning in the meadow. None of it seemed worth it anymore. He turned abruptly to face me, almost making me crash into him. In a split second, his caught my wrists, halting my oncoming collision. My cheeks flushed red. "You've lost yourself Alina, you need to find your purpose again." A frown plucked at my lips, I pulled my hands from his grasp. He studied me, his eyes gliding across my collarbone where the stag laid against my neck. "Attack me," he simply ordered, taking a couple of lazy steps back. My mouth turned sour, I was in no mood for this game again.

But then, curiously I felt a spark. At the challenge, a fire ignited in me for the first time since Mal had been ripped apart on the Fold.

I summoned a whip from golden light, it edges sparking as I wielded it. He remained motionless, his head tilting in an analytical stare as I cracked it towards him with a wave of my arm. A hazy shield of shadows appeared a second before it could do any harm. He made a curling motion with his fingers, a shadowed, black coil that mirrored my own materializing. It wrapped around my light, and he made a pulling motion, yanking me towards him. I gasped, stumbling before letting the light dissipate. Anger rose, hot in my mouth, at his calm demeanor. It was easy for him. I let light explode from within me in a blinding glow, attempting to at least startle him for a moment. Almost instantaneously, he clapped his hands together with a thunderous boom, and darkness enveloped us, swallowing my light.

I arced my hand in a wide Cut, immediately hearing the results of my aim in the form of a deafening crash. I felt shadows close around my wrists, but I sliced them away before summoning a halo of light as a shield. Aleksander's face was illuminated for a brief moment before his hand closed into a fist, snuffing out my light like a breath against a flame. My pulse was rapidly increasing as it beat against my chest, my heart in my throat with the intensity of the adrenaline. I saw the gleam of the edge of his Cut, my body reacting instinctively, throwing light outward to meet it. The force of the contact from our powers was loud enough to make my ears ring as I was thrown to the ground.

The shadows slithered away abruptly, revealing an awed audience of Grisha. My eyes met Aleksander's for a brief moment before I surveyed the almost unimaginable destruction we had just created in mere minutes. The ground was blackened, almost cratered, the forest was flattened for miles. I climbed to my feet, brushing myself off as Aleksander strode towards me. "Look at what we can do together," he allowed a smile of excitement to curl at his lips as he gestured around at the clearing. I looked to the gathered people staring at us in both fear and admiration. _There are no others like us_. None of them understood, no one could ever understand.

"Just because we can doesn't mean we should," I softly spoke, my hand clutching at the fetter. I could clearly visualize the path of destruction we would rampage across the country if I gave in to his unquenchable ambition. The Firebird. Novokribirsk. Mal. The casualties would continue, become too high to count. And it would be easy, as easy as stepping on colony after colony of ants. The excitement that sparked within me at the thought was terrifying. "Everything could be ours," he argued, his voice low and controlled. I met his gray stare, my tone bordering on pleading, "I'm supposed to be your balance Aleksander. You know I can't agree to it, the world wasn't meant to be held in the palm of your hand." His eyes flashed, but he said nothing. "Moi tsar," A voice called after we had sat in silence for a long moment. Aleksander's icy gaze snapped to the Grisha who had dared to get his attention. They held up a piece of yellowed parchment, the next words making my heart leap into my throat again.

"Word from the Fjerdans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how many times I've teased you guys with smut ahahah I promise it will get smuttier in upcoming chapters. but hey, waiting makes it better, amiright? ;)
> 
> as always, I'd love any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos to know that you guys are enjoying the fic! you all inspire me to keep writing :)


	17. we will have fjerda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been too long I've been having withdrawals but my grades will thank me later. this chapter is really interesting for aleksander's character development, I just hope its not too ooc in terms of his trajectory so lmk what you think. again, sorry this took so long but there will be a reward for your patience in the next chapter ;)
> 
> please enjoy <33

"The Fjerdans have surrendered," the Grisha representative who handled foreign affairs announced, his fingers curled around the stack of paper. The parchment fell against the table, obscuring some maps from view. A jolt of surprise almost made me flinch, but I managed to keep my reaction subdued to a mere glance over at Aleksander. He leaned back against his throne, his expression dangerously calculating as he stared down the man on the opposite side of the table. Everyone in the meeting was silent.

"No terms?" Aleksander finally questioned, his chin resting in his hand thoughtfully. "Just a gala to receive and celebrate their new rulers." Suspicion shot through me immediately. "A trap," he mused, his fingers curling over his lips as his other hand almost imperceptibly tightened around the arm of the throne. I resisted the urge to hold it. "What can we do?" I asked, knowing the answer was never simple in politics. "They are no threat to us," he waved in dismissal, though there was something about his expression that told me he was almost unsettled. "Make the arrangements for travel next week." My jaw almost dropped. He was willingly walking into what was almost certainly a trap?

He held up his hand to silence me as I opened my mouth to speak. I narrowed my eyes, but complied.

"If we go back on our word, it means nothing to West Ravka or Shu Han," he canted his head, "We will go to this gala as a sign of acceptance, and if they attempt anything it will villainize them." It was a perfectly plausible plan, disregarding the innocent lives that could be taken as a result. "More blood spilled," I muttered. He ignored me. "Make the arrangements and send word back to their ambassador that we will be accepting their surrender effective immediately." My fingers curled into my palm, but I stayed silent. A sour taste rose in my throat. Why did I even try to fool myself into thinking my words had any weight? He held all of the power, my throne might as well have been symbolic, or more accurately a damn high chair.

"Adjourned."

The word held a degree of finality, sending the Grisha scrambling to collect their stacks of paper before exiting. My expression had molded into something miserable as his gaze settled on me. "Walk with me, Alina." His voice held a hard edge but somehow still managed to be soft and silky. I pushed back the wisps of stray hair from my face and stood up, too tired and defeated to argue. I grasped the soft fabric of his coat at the swell of his bicep, my fingers digging in almost roughly. He didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge my fingernails angrily biting into his flesh as he pulled me swiftly out of the war room through the doors leading to the gardens. I had only been there once before, seeing as it used to be the Queen's sanctuary. Mostly for the purpose of hiding herself from prying eyes while Genya hid her flaws.

Delicate cherry blossom petals littered the ground, the trees were in full bloom. Spring had come, normally an indicator of new life, but all I could see was death in the turning of the season. I let my grip loosen around his arm as he slowed our pace to a lazy stroll. The floral, airy scent filled the garden, perpetuating me to inhale softly. It relaxed me, but only slightly.

"How can I convince you to stop." The words left my mouth before I could stop to think about how pathetic it sounded. He paused, my grip on his arm causing me to halt my steps as well. His eyes sliced through me. "Stop what?" he impassively spoke, "Stop protecting our country? Stop our people from being killed in meaningless wars? Power is a natural side effect of progress, Alina, and the world will be better off for it after we take control." My hand dropped from his arm, my misery sparking to hot anger. Apparently this wasn't going to be a romantic stroll through the garden. Not that what me and Aleksander were was remotely close to anything romantic.

"Then why did you slaughter all of those innocent Ravkans? Also progress for saving our people?" My lips had curled into a sneer, my words dripping with venom. To my surprise, he didn't answer, though his eyes remained hard. "Let me guess," I sardonically mused, "It's because they don't actually matter to you, they're like dust under your boots. You're far too old and powerful to care about sacrificing a few meaningless lives to gain control over your country and its enemies. Right?" I could see his jaw tick, but he made no other motion to concede that my words had gotten to him.

"You are young and naive to the cost of war," he coolly dismissed everything I had said like he was brushing a speck of dust off of his kefta. "Why don't you just listen to me? For once?" I snapped, unable to control the frustration boiling inside of me. He was so damnably stubborn. I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze as he took a step towards me, his eyebrow arching in a less than playful manner. "So I didn't listen to you when I pardoned your traitors, nor when I promised not to harm your tracker. Or when I found the firebird for you. We must have contradictory definitions regarding what listening means." My heart felt like he had lodged a dagger in it at the mention of Mal. Desperately trying to push it to the side, I contemplated his words. Would the Darkling have spared Mal, or my friends, had I not told him to?

Never.

My hands clenched before slowly uncurling, falling limp at my sides. "You're right," I whispered in admission. The curve to his lips softened to wicked amusement. "What was that _Sankta_? I don't think I heard you," he smirked slightly when I rolled my eyes. "You're right, but it doesn't change anything that I just said, Aleksander." He shrugged, that toe curling look still present on his lips. Damn him and his perfectly sculpted features. "I don't think we should go to Fjerda," I asserted, crossing my arms over my chest indignantly.

He leaned in, his hands capturing my waist and pulling me into him. "Is that so?" he murmured, his breath washing over my skin like a caress. "We have Ravka," I breathed, stifling the sounds that threatened to pour from my mouth merely at his proximity. "And we will have Fjerda as well," he purred, his lips hovering over a particularly sensitive spot where my neck and jaw met. I tried to shake my head, to pull away, but the only movement that resulted was a shiver. "We can, we don't-" I couldn't find the words, my body consumed with his teasing lips drifting along the curve of my neck. "We can what, Alina?" he whispered against my skin.

He knew I wouldn't answer, I couldn't possibly answer with the way his skin was pressing against mine.

His hand pressed to the small of my back, his fingers curling around the fabric of my kefta and bunching it tightly in his grasp. My hands came to rest on his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck where his skin was exposed. I exhaled at the added rush of pleasure, every pulse of power was sinfully amazing. "Only if no innocent are harmed," I managed to get out, my breath shaky as his lips found their way to hover over my own. "Are you in a position to negotiate?" he husked, his gaze trained on me intensely.

"Please."

It was pathetic, I was pathetic. His gaze softened a fraction, one hand lifting to loosely cup my cheek. I let out a sigh as his thumb ghosted over my lips, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. "I won't harm the civilians, my little saint," he finally promised after beat of drawn out silence. I let a smile curl at my mouth for a brief moment at the small victory before his lips pressed to mine in a soft kiss. Not hungry and wild like I had grown accustomed to, no, this was gentle and delicate and... different. I melted against his touch, my lips moving in perfect synchrony with his. His hands slid to my hair, pulling me closer still, like he couldn't get enough. I was the first to break away, my cheeks warm. "Thank you," I allowed a small smile. I half expected some acerbic response, but he paused. He tilted his head slightly, his lips grazing my forehead in the ghost of a kiss.

"You're welcome, Alina."

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

The sound of heavy knocking roused me from the thin veil of sleep. I could feel the irritated scowl curl at my lips as my eyes peeled open. Another knock, more hesitant. My gaze flickered to Alina, deep in the clutches of sleep. Her delicate body was wrapped around me tightly, her hand resting against my chest and her legs tangled through mine. She held onto me like she needed me to survive. I relished it. Another knock, insistent, then the distinctive sound of Ivan's voice.

"Urgent update, moi tsar."

A low growl emitted from the depths of my throat. Alina stirred, her soft fingers curling more tightly around me. It took every scrap of the self control I had so carefully perfected in my years to pull myself away. She whimpered softly before grasping hold of the silken sheets in replacement. I didn't bother to put a shirt on, my irritation prickling along the tips of my fingers as I strode to the door, yanking it open. My eyes narrowed to slits at Ivan, remaining silent. I could see his throat tighten as he swallowed hard.

"We found the bastard prince," he cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. I blinked slowly, trying to minimize the shock from affecting any eternal part of my body. "Where." My voice was low as I heard Alina shift on the bed. "Mountains in the north. A former monastery," he distastefully spoke, though I could see the proudness lining the edge of his tone that he was the one to relay the success to me. The Lantsov had been located.

In other words, Ravka was now, essentially, in the palm of my hand.

I leaned slightly against the wooden frame of the door, feeling the muscles in my jaw clench. So soon after the death of her tracker, Alina would never comply with destroying the sobachka and West Ravka alongside me. "Should I arrange a war regiment?" Ivan hesitantly spoke, uncomfortable with my silence. My heart almost jumped, distracted at the sound of Alina whispering my name to me from the comforts of the bed, soft enough that only I could hear. "We will discuss this at a later date, after the Fjerdan banquet," I uttered smoothly, making Ivan furrow his brow in confusion. "As you wish, moi tsar." He had just enough time to shift in a slight bow before I promptly shut the door in a harsh manner.

My eyes met Alina's, her features swathed in the remnants of sleep as she squinted at me. "Nothing important," I answered her question before she could ask it, sliding back under the warmth of the covers. Even though she was half asleep I could sense her muted suspicion, the careful wariness that she always held towards me emerging. My gaze glided over her body to the silk strap of her nightgown that had fallen off of her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. "Good night, Aleksander," she muttered, yanking the entirety of the covers around her body and leaving me with nothing but sheets. I couldn't help the quirk of my lips. Alina Starkov treated me like no other would dare to, and I found a strange sense of satisfaction at the disruption of monotony that was nothing but hundreds of years of fear. She couldn't be afraid because we were one in the same.

She was my light in the darkness, and I was the darkness in her heart.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

"Aleksander!"

My jaw set. Being woken up from the comforts of sleep twice in one night was enough to make me noticeably irritable. And yet, the excitement to her angelic voice made my eyes gradually open until she came into focus. Her features were dancing with enthusiasm, her thin nightgown hanging off of her shoulders loosely. "What, solnishka," I murmured, the shroud of sleep falling away almost immediately. "Come with me," she found my hand, grabbing it and firmly tugging. "What could possibly be this important at this hour, Alina," I arched a brow, though my fingers gripped her just as tightly.

"I'll show you."

Something about her demeanor made me want to breathe a sigh of relief. She looked more alive than I'd ever seen her in the last few months. And so, I shifted off of the bed, standing to my full height so she had to look up at me. It was a peculiar feeling, allowing myself to be led, gazing at the golden hair that flowed over her shoulders like silk. Despite her grief, the firebird had made her exterior glow as beautifully as her light. She was as breathtaking as she was powerful. Her footsteps quickened, light against the cool marble as we approached the balcony doors. "Look how beautiful it is," she breathed as she pushed the glass doors open, walking to the edge. The sun was rising on the horizon, the sky bursting with various tones of warm colors, bright and bold fushias and scarlets fading and melting to soft peaches and yellows, which were tinged with the faintest dark edges of lavenders and stunning turquoise blues, the remnants of night.

"A sunrise."

She seemed to wilt slightly at the dull indifference to my voice. "A beautiful sunrise," she insisted, her fingers grasping more tightly through mine. I suppressed the sigh that threatened to surface. She was so young, still fascinated with something as trivial as colors in the sky. "It's not a weakness to let yourself appreciate something." My eyes snapped to her of their own accord. She leaned into the curve of my arm, not meeting my stare, her gaze trained out on the horizon. Her golden eyes reflected the fiery hues of the sky. "Just enjoy it with me, please Aleksander," she whispered, a sadness present in her voice that left an unfamiliar ache in my throat. I swallowed it down in distaste. Reluctantly, I looked back to the picturesque sunrise, trying to see it through the eyes of someone who hadn't lived for centuries. The sky seemed to be a canvas, the colors like brush strokes, blending together and separating seamlessly. The sun was soothingly golden as it shone through the thick evergreens that stretched out for miles, rays of light bathing the landscape in warmth. "It is beautiful, Alina," I conceded softly. I could sense her smile. She shifted, her velvet lips grazed my cheek, making my fingers twitch in her grip involuntarily, pulling her closer. She didn't move from her position in my arms, with her head against my chest and her dainty hand clasped within mine. It was inexplicably peaceful.

We stayed that way until the sun had long risen into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :) you guys are what inspires me to keep writing!


	18. simple and black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1500 hits?? I'm literally smiling from ear to ear I honestly never thought this fic would be where it is right now. so to thank you guys, here is a long awaited chapter. you'll understand what I mean once you read it. 
> 
> enjoy ;)

 

The misery that had consumed me for the previous month had faded to a dull, constant ache that plagued the back of my mind. Nightmares visited me less frequently, though the weight of guilt still rested heavily on my shoulders, just shy of being debilitating. Here I was living lavishly in the clutches of the man who had slaughtered so many innocent people, so weak that I couldn't bear the thought of leaving him for the fear of being truly alone. It was the day before our departure to Fjerda, and I was having to endure being fitted for more gowns. My lips curled as I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes sliding over the garishly decorated black and green ballgown. I looked from the seamstress over to Genya, who looked less than pleased.

"Would you like her to look any more like a dead christmas tree? It's hideous," she acidly spoke, standing up from the red velvet couch and running her fingers distastefully down the beaded stitching. I might have laughed had it not have been for the look on the seamstress's face. I absently ran my hands over the emeralds dripping from the bodice, lightly asking, "Do you have anything simpler?" Her eyes widened like I had said I wanted to wear a dress made out of dead rats instead. "Simpler?" she spat out the word like an insult, a fake smile desperately working to stay on her lips.

"Simple. And black."

A breath escaped my lungs in surprise at the sound of Aleksander's voice, I hadn't even noticed he had come in to the fitting room. He was leaned up against the far wall, almost blending in with the shadows, his arms folded lazily over his chest. My eyes flickered to Genya, who had tensed at his presence, coiled up like a crouching tiger. Her eye was burning with heat. The seamstress also seemed to stiffen, though more so with fear. "I'll see what I can find, moi tsar," she darted to her sewing room with urgency, her sewing assistants hastily scurrying after her. The room fell into a thick silence that crackled with intensity as Genya and Aleksander spewed daggers with their eyes. "Did you see her face when I said simple?" I smiled half heartedly, desperate to ease the tension before someone snapped. Genya let an unconvincing laugh fill the room, her gaze finally coming back to me awkwardly standing on the wooden stool between them. "You might as well have said you wanted to go naked," she smirked slightly.

I could feel Aleksander's cool, sharp stare piercing through me, probably settled in the spot between my bare shoulder blades, as my back was to him. "I'd rather go naked than in this hideous monstrosity," I whispered, snapping my mouth closed when the seamstress bustled back into the fitting room with a mountain of black silk. "This will look divine on you," she smiled widely, her cheeks flushed. My eyes widened as she held up the dress. The train might as well have been a mile long, endless waves of see through mesh moving like shadows as she held it up. The top was black and fitted until it hit just above the knee, fading into the translucent fabric. At closer inspection, the bodice was littered with small diamonds.

"I love it," Genya gasped, clasping her hands together with excitement. I chewed on my lower lip. _Anything to get out of this ugly parachute_. "I'll try it," I conceded as I eyed Aleksander, who hadn't moved so much as a centimeter since he'd first spoken. "Lovely," the seamstress practically dumped the heavy fabric on the two young serf girls, grasping the zipper of the dress I was currently in and pulling it down. I barely had time to realize what she was doing before she was yanking it off of me, leaving me clad in nothing but skimpy lace undergarments. My eyes met Aleksander's in the reflection of the mirror, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. He arched a brow, and rather infuriatingly, I knew exactly what he was thinking.

 _Nothing I haven't seen before, Alina_.

I shot him a dirty look, quickly hastening my redressing as I stepped into the silky skirts. The material hugged my slender curves like a soft cloud, shaping to my body and flattering it in the most seductive way.

    

I barely registered Genya's gushes of approval, entirely consumed with the way Aleksander was looking at me. He devoured my body with his eyes, a desire burning in their depths that made my toes curl. "The Fjerdan queen will be shaking her boots," the seamstress grinned to Genya, who nodded in agreement. "It's perfect," Aleksander finally spoke, his calm tone sharply contrasting with his expression. I let my stare flicker back to my reflection, my fingers ghosting over the soft fabric. "It's something," I finally bit out. I couldn't deny the dress flattered me, made me look powerful, but it had Aleksander all over it. This was a dress for _his_ queen.

I didn't want to be anyone's claim.

"Leave us," Aleksander quietly ordered, waving his hand and sending the seamstresses racing away. Genya stood up slowly, a fire in her eye like she was going to protest. To my surprise, she merely grabbed my hand, squeezing it softly before exiting. My hands curled into fists as I turned to face Aleksander, "Must you always find a way to trap us alone in a room together?"

I didn't even have time to see his expression.

His mouth came down hard on mine, a combination of tongue and teeth and desperation that almost left me reeling. A startled gasp escaped me, the wave of his pure desire and possessiveness that hummed across the tether almost overwhelming. My lips quickly reciprocated his, my hands digging into his hair as I savored the soft feeling of his mouth against mine, his tongue dancing across my lower lip. Any other thought vanished from my mind as suddenly my back hit the wall. He pressed against me, stepping between my legs to close the distance even further. His chest was hard against mine, his hand easing my head back to give him better access to my neck. I gasped, my eyes fluttered as his teeth grazed my skin, the stinging sensation immediately soothed by his tongue. His lips were like a flame, burning wherever they came in contact as they traced a path across my collarbone, the heat spreading across every inch of me until I was whimpering with the feverish sensation. Something twisted in my lower stomach, a shaky breath leaving my lips at the feeling.

 _Shit_.

I desperately tried to clench my legs together, but he pushed them back open with a tug of his fingers, making my back arch as he rocked his hips into mine. Heat pooled in between my legs, a moan falling from my mouth without restraint. My lips desperately found his again, his pleasant taste spilling onto my tongue. His free hand had proceeded in pulling up my skirts, higher and higher still until they were bunched at the top of my leg. My inner thighs were drenched with slick wetness, I prayed he didn't notice. "My Alina," he spoke against my lips, his cool voice only betraying a hint of the rough edge of wild desire. His hand hooked around the underside of my thigh, pulling it forward so I was wrapped around his waist. My breaths were gasping in my throat, I could feel the heat radiating from my core, almost unbearable. I tried to force myself to stop him, to push away the hand running up my leg but the desire drowned out the voice into nothing. His satisfaction was evident as he came in contact with my drenched inner thighs, his silver eyes darkening. A slender finger hooked through the lacy band of my underwear. "Aleksander," I whimpered. I wasn't even sure if it was a sound of protest or encouragement.

"For me, Alina," he rasped, his normally clear voice now throaty with hunger as his teeth grazed my earlobe. My skirts were at my waist now. The world seemed dull, the only thing in focus was him, his impassively beautiful eyes tracing every inch of me with such intensity it felt like I would collapse. The anticipation of the drastic slow in his pace was enough to force a pathetically soft whine from my lips, my back arching off the wall. He made no move to appease me, regarding me with his dark stare. He seemed to have a taste for me begging. "Please, Aleksander," I pleaded desperately, every inch of my body screaming with tension and sexual frustration.

At that his index finger easily tore apart the delicate lace, tossing the drenched fabric to the floor. "Look at me," he ordered with such authority I immediately met his gaze. His fingers slid across my entrance, achingly light. My knees buckled. He caught me with one arm, pinning me against the wall to allow him to continue the unbearable movement. My eyes had rolled back, something akin to a strangled cry of ecstasy leaving my body. His expert fingers teased through my folds, exploring every inch of my dripping core until he recognized all of my most sensitive spots. "Saints, I'm begging you Aleksander." A low growl left his mouth, humming against my skin before he captured my lips in his own. Finally, _finally_ , he slid a finger inside of me, a long, slow stroke of euphoria.

"Look at me," he hissed again, making me snap into focus. Pleasure twisted my body, my hips bucking upwards into the rhythm of his fingers as I held his gaze. I was drowning my arousal, it was dripping down my shaking legs, probably his arm as well as his fingers moved in a circular rhythm that left me begging for more. The thought made me flush, I looked away from him. "Naughty saint," he growled, his thumb pressing down and flicking my clit. I threw my head back, my hands finding the front of his shirt to grip it so hard I might have torn through it. The movement of his fingers was unbearable, manipulating my body in ways only his years of expertise could have perfected. "Fuck, Aleksander," I clenched around his fingers, unbounded moans falling from me amid pants of pleasure.

And then all too suddenly, his touch left me, leaving my body trembling with the promise of release. An almost cry of protest left my throat, my hand desperately trying to grab for his. "Alina," he warned, pinning my wrists back against the wall forcefully as if he were shackling me in place. I glared at him, my eyes blazing with pure and utter sexual frustration, every muscle in my body tense. He met my gaze with a primal intensity. "Admit that you want me, Alina." My breaths were labored, my legs shaking. I was a mess. And I wanted him so, so badly. The words fell painfully slow from my lips, every syllable dragging out reluctantly.

"I want you."

His head tilted slightly as he studied me, an infuriating ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Say my name," he toned. He knew I was in the palm of his hand. I gritted my teeth. "Alexsander fucking Morozova, I want you so fucking badly," I seethed. He arched a brow at my unusual use of profanity, but nodded in satisfaction. My skirts were hiked back up to my waist in a split second, and I stared at him, eyes wide, as he kneeled down in front of me.

"What are you doing Aleks-"

My question was abruptly cut short as his mouth closed over my sex. And then I was lost in him, in a haze of pleasure that allowed me to do no more than cry out his name, over and over. His lips parted against me, tongue darting from his mouth and making me gasp uncontrollably with the feeling. I let the moans consume my every breath, rapidly dissolving into soft screams as he made quick work of tasting every inch of me, teasing me to the brink and pulling me back with wicked ease. My body writhed under his tongue, though every time my hips jerked forward he pinned them back against the wall with aching force. I lost all sense of time as the languid swipes of his tongue left me trembling, my body entirely under his control. I let my hands twine through his hair, my fingers gripping the soft strands so tightly my knuckles were stark white. "Please, Aleksander," I begged, my legs a shaking mess, threatening to collapse. He hummed softly, the vibration tingling through every inch of my body. One of my hands left his hair, grasping for his arm as more pleas escaped me in ragged, breathy moans. His hand found mine, our fingers lacing together in a perfect, natural manner. I was falling apart. "I need you, Aleksander, oh god, please." I could feel his smirk, his tongue gliding down my clit before it entered me once more, hitting a spot that almost made me scream. My teeth sunk into my lip, so hard I felt blood dance on my tongue. I could feel my heat rising, I could hardly breathe, my eyes rolled back...

"Come for me, my Alina."

The high exploded within me like a fire, racing across my skin like electricity as I came for him, nothing but his name on my lips over and over and over again. The world was a blur, I could feel nothing but the mind-numbing orgasm ravaging my body at his hand. He rode me out until I could no longer stand my own, catching me just before my legs buckled. I sunk into his arms, my body entirely too weak to resist. We stayed like that in silence for a long moment. "I like this dress," he finally murmured, his voice husky. I almost smacked him. "I'm going to kill you someday," I breathed.

He kissed me in response.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I teased you guys for long enough. I hope you enjoyed it hehe 
> 
> also yes, I realized that according to canon alina doesn't know that aleks is a morozova yet because that is revealed late in ruin and rising so just pretend with me for now and maybe ill go back and write it in later. but I feel like long awaited smut is worth a minor continuity error, amiright?
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any constructive criticism/comments/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep on writing :)


	19. shame is a useless emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is short but I wanted to get it posted because I have a research paper due this week that I'll be working on nonstop until friday. 24 pages of boring ass science wow im so excited. this is my favorite Baghra scene I have ever written she is my queen. also shit's about to go down so enjoy the peace while it lasts

I laid in bed, drowning in layers of silk blankets and sheets, my gaze trained at the ceiling of Aleksander's room. I could almost still feel his fingertips pressed into my skin, claiming every part of my body. My hands clenched at the memory of the sensation, one that continued to make my skin crawl with heat, even hours later.

_What was I thinking_.

Reality was that I hadn't been thinking. He seemed to have that affect on me, to be able to dispel any and all rational thought with the mere press of his lips. My jaw clenched with tension. I had given him what I had saved for Mal my whole life. I hated him for that. Presently, I never wanted to see him again, yet I couldn't possibly survive that in actuality. I needed him as much as I needed air to breathe.

It would be imbecilic to assume he felt the same way.

Foolish Alina. Ana Kuya's voice snapped over and over, drowning out my thoughts until I could hear nothing else. Stupid, naive Alina, who gave herself to a man who very likely only saw her as a tool, a weapon. Something to be manipulated and controlled, which he had proven he could do with ease time and time again. And yet, somehow, I knew I didn't regret what had transpired. He had made my body come alive in a way not even my powers could, he had understood me in a way no one else ever had. A shiver slid down my spine, my eyes fluttering shut as I desperately tried to ignore the tingling heat clinging to my skin. Tomorrow we were leaving for Fjerda, and I had to somehow figure out how to get a hold of myself before we were stuck together in a coach for days at a time. The thought was dizzying. My fingers dug into the blanket that was tightly wrapped around me. I couldn't lose focus, I needed to remain in control of my own desire so I could temper his inevitable power hungriness in Fjerda. He had promised me no innocent would get hurt. But this was the man who had slaughtered his own people to make a point. My mouth soured. I was laying in that man's bed.

The worst part of it all being that there was nowhere else I would rather be. 

***

"What's your favorite food?" Sasha asked with a giggle, playing with the hem of her blue kefta with restless, pudgy fingers. "Focus Sasha, or Baghra will get mad," I tried to tell her sternly, though I couldn't help but smile at her infectious grin. I was currently sitting in on another Grisha lesson, watching as the collection of young Squallers fought to manipulate the current blowing through the meadow. "Push it out farther, to the forest!" Baghra snapped, as irritable as she always was when I was around. Sasha was hardly paying attention, easily blowing her stream of air out across the lake to the trees. She looked back at me, sneaking a glance at Baghra. "I like garlic rolls," she nodded contemplatively as an answer to her own question. I nodded in agreement, my mouth starting to water, "Totally, and blini too." I hadn't eaten yet this morning, and I was starving.

I saw Sasha's eyes widen a split second before I felt a sting sear into the back of my head. I rubbed the spot where Baghra whacked me, turning around and flashing her an apologetic smile, "Sorry." She sniffed, her contempt clear even in her shadowed eyes, "Just because you have the control of a child doesn't mean you can act like one. Stop distracting my students." I rolled my eyes once she turned away. She had no idea what I could do.

And it bothered me that it bothered me so much. Since when did I care so much about people knowing I was powerful? I pulled away from my thoughts, my eyes widening when I realized what she had sensed that had made her turn around. Aleksander, a dark spot amidst the soft greens of the meadow as he made his way towards us. The children fell silent, whether out of awe or fear or a mixture of both I didn't quite know.

"Alina," he greeted me as soon as he was close enough. The slight warmth left his eyes as he stared down at Baghra. "And here I thought you forgot about me," she tilted her head, a challenge in her demeanor. "Of course not, mother," he smoothly replied without a beat, "Unfortunately, Alina and I must be going." His fingers clasped around my wrist, making me inhale softly. The way his hand curled across my skin made me burn with heat. "Students, keep practicing," she ordered, finding my other arm and yanking the two of of us out of earshot. I hissed in complaint as her nails bit into my skin, causing her to spitefully increase the pressure even further.

"Speak, I don't have time for this," Aleksander ordered, staring down at her impassively. She grabbed for his arm with her free hand, making his stare darken. A laugh of bitter disbelief fell from her mouth as she quickly released us from the confines of her painful grip. I grew uneasy at her expression, my feet shifting in the soft grass.

"You had relations, didn't you," she shook her head caustically.

My jaw might as well have dropped to the ground, my cheeks flushing with heat as I sputtered, "W-what are you talking about Baghra?" Her mouth turned to a sour frown. "Don't make me spell it out for you, girl. You did something of an amorous nature with my son, did you not?" I was absolutely sure it wasn't possible for me to get any redder. "Even if we had done something, it is not within your authority to comment on said relations," Aleksander folded his arms, his irritation clear. I couldn't look at either of them, I was redder than a Corporalki kefta. "Weak," she curled her lip, the insult not clear to which one of us she was referring to. Maybe both. "Watch your tongue," Aleksander narrowed his eyes slightly in response, "We wouldn't want you to lose your ability to speak as well, right mother?" She scoffed, I could almost sense an eye roll. "Go ahead, boy," she mocked, curling her hands around her cane. His eyes held a warning, but something told me he wouldn't ever hurt her again.

"There are more important things to be done than to subject the girl to your depraved, masochistic appetite," she bit venomously before striding away back towards her class. I had never been more embarrassed in my life, and yet Aleksander looked unfazed. Calm and collected as always. "Let's go, the coach is ready," he murmured, his touch gliding down my upper arm to rest on my waist. A trill of pleasure flickered through me at his touch, but I pushed it down. "Do you ever feel shame?" I sarcastically questioned as he pulled me along behind him like a limp doll. "You will learn that shame is a useless emotion when you can cut anyone you'd like to in half." I bit my lip in concession.

He had a point.

"Alina?" 

The sound of Sasha's voice made my steps slow, squeaking against the wet grass as I turned to see her watching us with obvious curiosity. Aleksander's fingers twitched around my arm. "I'll be back in a week or two, Sasha," I promised, flashing her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. She nodded, taking a few tentative steps towards us. From the corner of my eye, I could see Baghra exhale in irritation at my continued interruption, probably thinking something along the lines of me being a thorn in her side. "Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?" Sasha bit her lip, her blue eyes casting down to where Aleksander was holding me. My mouth opened to reply, but no words would come out. I felt my cheeks burn.

"Come here, little one." 

Aleksander's voice was cool, unbothered as he beckoned her forward with his finger. She glanced back at Baghra before bounding over to where we were standing. He knelt down, speaking to her quietly, quiet enough that I couldn't hear a thing. A smile tugged at my lips as I saw her eyes light up with excitement along with his words, her hands clasping together as he stood back up. "Now go join your class," he motioned towards Baghra with a hand. There was a beat of silence. "What did you tell her?" I asked curiously, my teeth tugging on my lower lip as she skipped away. "What she wanted to hear," he smoothly replied, a hint of a smile ghosting at the corner of his mouth.

He offered no further explanation. 

***

The coach was silent, save for the sounds of horse hooves and wheels against the rough terrain. Four oprichniki, along with Ivan and another Corporalki I didn't recognize, were riding in the coach with us, an uncommon occurrence but an extra precautionary measure considering the circumstances. My hands were folded in my lap, my body close to touching Aleksander's in the cramped space. In all outside appearances, Aleksander was all but ignoring me, occupying the long hours with discussing politics and strategy and war with Ivan. But through our connection, I could feel the tension, his hyperawareness of every little movement I made. Along with the oprichniki not so subtly staring me down, I was uncomfortable to say the least.

I shifted, my hands twisting in my lap as I eyed the map Aleksander and Ivan were looking over. It was Shu Han, the curve of its many mountains detailed in black ink and marked over with vantage points for mobilization. More war, more death. Would it ever stop? Aleksander traced an elegant, pale finger along a passage leading to the southern Ravkan posts, muttering something. He shifted again so the paper was obscured from my line of sight. I rolled my eyes in irritation at his obvious effort to keep me from knowing anything, sitting back against the velvet cushions with a soft huff. It was slight, but I felt him shift his leg slightly, his knee nudging mine. I didn't know why my frustration melted away in a half second, the simple act making my heart warm in a strange, puzzling way.

I wanted some semblance that he cared, that he didn't just think of me as a means to an end. That my efforts were making some sort of difference, that all of this death might have been for something. And whether it was real or I was fooling myself, I felt like he was starting to care for Alina, not just the Sun Summoner.

I slung one arm behind my head, letting my eyes flutter closed. The intensity of the stares of the oprichniki was enough to make me irritably snap, "I'm not going to set myself on fire, you can stop staring." Silence in response. It was astounding how much strength within me it took to not cut them all in half when their stares intensified. Aleksander's voice cut through the quiet, "You are however, glowing again." I peeled my eyes back open in frustration. My skin had, in fact, a soft glow, the light that clung to it bringing some warm color to its normal sickly pallor. I clenched my hand into a fist, as if my power was a tangible thing I could snuff out in my grip. The glow dimmed, the hum still present underneath my skin but far less noticeable. My eyes met Aleksander's, a warm amusement present that was almost surprising. I looked away first, a confusing tangle of emotions flaring back up in my chest. "I'm going to sleep, don't wake me up unless we're getting attacked or something," I grumbled, tucking my knees into my chest and folding my arms.

For the first time in months, the nightmares weren't of Mal. They were visions of a silver eyed man sealing a collar around my neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing and it'll keep me going through what is going to be a horrible week :)


	20. you will always be the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the first draft of my research paper!! 24 pages of pure bullshit ahahah
> 
> I don't know how I feel about this chapter, so I just hope you guys like it. I'm SO excited for the next chapter though, so if this one is a letdown at least the next one will be redeeming. 
> 
> also, I can't believe we're at 20 chapters!! I appreciate all of your continued love and nice comments, and don't worry, we've still got a good amount of story left :)
> 
> enjoy <3

My legs ached from sitting. For days, my movement had been limited to merely shifting uncomfortably around the coach. Aleksander, Ivan, and even the oprichniki had been allowed in and out, sometimes leaving me for hours on end to the monotony of riding alone. Despite his intermittent absences, Aleksander had been especially possessive and overprotective, even when he wasn't in the coach he kept a careful hold on the tether, constantly checking it with a faint vibration that made my skin tingle with warmth. Currently I was alone, save for one oprichniki that I'd tried to talk to for an hour before promptly giving up. I couldn't help but wonder if Aleksander ordered them against speaking to me. I fingered the black fabric of the curtain draped over the window, playing with a single thread I had managed to loosen from the stitching. Curling it around my index finger, I attempted to tug it free, but it held fast, digging into my skin and gradually cutting off the circulation as I pulled harder. When my finger started to turn purple I gave up, silently cursing the silken thread as I rubbed the indentation.

"Ravkan spider silk lined with Materialki core cloth."

I startled at the sound of the oprichnik's low, gruff voice, my cheeks flushing a slight pink as I realized he'd been watching me in amusement. "So it's not going to break," I assumed, folding my hands in my lap in embarrassment. He nodded, his face hardening again as he resumed his stoic staring through the wall. I nearly jumped as the door slammed open, revealing a clearly irritable Ivan.

"We're taking a break, Starkov, the Darkling says you can come out if you want," he tossed over his shoulder before promptly closing the door. I hadn't even realized the coach had stopped, but now I couldn't stop myself from slamming the door back open, springing down the steps in excitement. "Freedom," I sighed, turning my face up to the sky and drinking in the warmth of the sun.

"You're glowing again."

I peeled my eyes open, unable to keep the grin from my lips as my gaze focused on Aleksander. "Are you intimidated?" I challenged, letting a golden spark playfully dance across my fingertips as I took a few lazy steps towards him. He shook his head, his lips pulling into a hint of a smile. "How much longer until we reach the Fjerdan palace?" I inquired breezily, turning away slightly and surveying the grassy terrain. For miles, nothing but flat, dry land surrounded us, the distant mountain range on the horizon shrouded in fog and clouds. "Not more than two days," Aleksander mused.

A soft breeze blew through the clearing, making a few loose strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes. I reached up, pushing the silken curls off his forehead, an absentminded movement.

He stiffened, taking a step back, whether from surprise or suspicion I couldn't discern.

My breath hitched, my hand recoiling as if he had burned me. I flushed. We stood for what could have been an eternity, his eyes searching mine, calculating. "We should be departing," he finally broke the silence, infuriatingly impassive as he turned away. I didn't know why my heartbeat now felt like a dagger in my chest. But it did.

I followed him back into the coach without another word.

***

The subsequent two days had been tense, to say the very least. Aleksander hadn't spoken a word to me, though there wasn't a single moment that I hadn't felt the heat of his eyes. I glared at Ivan as he conversed with Aleksander, his confident, brash voice grating to my ears. "The scouts confirmed there's no traps ahead on the path, the road is clear all the way to the palace," he reported, leaning back against the cushions. He caught my glare, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Did you hear that Starkov? Now you only have to worry about dying from malnourishment." The surprising surge of anger that flared inside of me was white hot. My eyes narrowed, my fingers flexing of their own accord. A ring of light burned into existence around his neck, pulling tight with a mere wave of my hand. Aleksander's gaze flickered to me in calculated interest, his expression unreadable. "Say that again, please Ivan," I smiled, my words like ice as I pulled the light tighter. He clawed at it, his lips parting in desperation for air as I constricted his windpipe. I flexed my fingers again. "That's what I thought." I released the light, leaving him gasping and coughing as he hunched over in pain. A ring of blistered red remained where the light had touched his skin.

Shame.

A wave of complete shame immediately washed over me, at what I'd done, at what I'd wanted to do. At the fact that I loved the feeling of his desperation, my power over him. I opened my mouth to offer countless apologies, but Aleksander spoke before I could get a word out. "You're dismissed, Ivan," he tilted his head slightly as a gesture to the door. I doubted Ivan had ever moved faster in his life, his hand subconsciously clutching at his collar as he left us.

"What are you doing to me."

My voice was painfully soft, but still accusatory as I stared at him. He was a murderer, a monster, but I couldn't have been much better. It had been slow, meticulous, but he was casting the spell of power over me, one I couldn't simply break of my own accord. He regarded me as if I was something he couldn't quite grasp. He could never understand my aversion to power when he had been raised to have a thirst for it. Through the tether, I felt the presence of something deeper, his longing and primal desire that was almost consuming. "I'm turning into you," I shuddered, my voice cracking with the truth of my words. "A monster," he softly spoke, his eyes crackling with an intensity as he voiced what I had insinuated. He stood, making a trill of fear skip down my spine.

"I wanted to hurt him."

Somehow, I felt like I was arguing, though he had responded with nothing but confirmations thus far. He nodded slowly, his eyes on my lips. My breath caught in my throat, a startling need curling inside of me at his sudden proximity. "Maybe we can compromise," he rolled his tongue around the word as if it had an unfamiliar taste.

How had I suddenly ended up on my back?

He hovered over me, his rosy lips begging for me to taste them.

"You become the better man, I become the monster." My words were a shudder, a sigh, a string of words that ached with lust.

His fingers danced along my skin, frustratingly light.

"You will always be the light, Alina Starkov."

And then I was lost. Lost in a tangle of his body, hard against mine, in the feeling of his lips drinking in every inch of my skin, in his teeth possessively marking my neck. I met his roughness with a ferocity, my fingernails slicing into his skin as he bruised my waist with his grip. My skin crawled as he pulled my hips up swiftly to meet his, the hard contact making my back arch. A moan darted from my lips amidst the strained sound of breaths. He trailed a path down my neck, a mixture of lips and tongue and teeth that left me whimpering. We both wanted more, we would always want more. It was an understanding that I was coming to accept about myself, that I could never, _ever_ have enough. His hands had found their way under my shirt, his touch making shivers run down my spine. My lips found his, greedily tasting him as his touch roamed the planes of my body.

"Mine." His voice was raspy against my mouth, a sound that made my toes curl. "No, Aleksander," I breathily responded in between the rhythm of his lips. He let out a growl, his fingers clasping around my wrists tightly, as if he could shackle me to him. My legs closed around his torso, the feeling of him making my eyes roll back with the overwhelming pleasure. His mouth had come back to my neck, he was at the collar of my shirt now, his lips burning wherever they touched.

The coach jolted to a stop.

I couldn't even process what that meant, his lips drawing me back in as quickly as I had gotten distracted. My hand slid along his chest, fisting the fabric as he pressed my hips into him even harder.

A knock on the door. "Moi tsar."

I felt my heart jump, but I didn't quite know why, I was entirely lost in the way Aleksander was running his fingers down my lower stomach. "What," he snapped, quick to resume his conquest of love bites across my chest.

The voice of the attendant was muffled. "We have arrived, the king and queen are waiting to receive you."

The door swung open.

I froze, desperately moving to untangle myself from Aleksander, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Aleksander turned his head unimaginably slowly, making no motion to move from his position on top of me as his eyes narrowed to mere slits. The Corporalki gaped, his expression morphing to one of terror at the realization of what he had done. "I-I am so sorry moi tsar," he blustered, the sounds of his apologies quickly muffled as Aleksander slammed the door with a wisp of shadow. I reddened even further as his gaze dropped back down to me. "It appears we have pressing matters to attend to," he swiftly got up, extending one hand to me as the other ran through his messy hair, fixing it in one smooth motion. I accepted his offer, my whole body still hot with the feeling of his skin against mine. "Now, shall we go meet our gracious guests?" he looked to me, the question obviously sarcastic. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Neither of us said a word as he pushed open the coach door.

***

The Fjerdan palace was even uglier than Ravka's. I saw Aleksander's lip curl slightly at the gaudy exterior, gold and ornate with carvings and diamonds and twisting spires. He held my hand tightly, the way his fingers naturally curved around mine melting any resolve I had to resist the unnecessary gesture. Oprichniki surrounded us at just about every angle, the two directly in front of us stepping aside as the Fjerdan ambassador approached. He had a thick yellow beard that dwarfed his face and dark eyes that cast a thinly veiled look of disdain over us. "Welcome," he spoke with a thick accent, his arm extending in lackluster invitation, "The queen would like to have a word, then we will gladly show you to your quarters." The expression on his face implied that it would not, in fact, be done gladly. Aleksander merely nodded, his eyes filled with a degree of boredom. The guard closed back in around us as we ascended the grand pathway towards the palace.

Anticipation tugged at the pit of my stomach. Was anything to be expected of me, other than to be a human prop? It was as if Aleksander read my mind. "The queen will greet me first, when she addresses you, you will not bow, for you are now of a higher ranking," he spoke calmly, confidently. Politics were a subtlety he danced around with ease. The wide, intricately carved doors were drug open by the Fjerdan guards, allowing us to cross the threshold into the grand throne room. The queen was lounging amidst a pool of servants, the king intriguingly absent. She clasped her hands in feigned joy when she caught sight of us, rising from her gold and velvet throne. "What a pleasure it is, moi soveryeni," she dipped her head to Aleksander, lumbering down the stairs in her thick skirts. As soon as she was close enough, she curtsied, a gleam in her eye as she looked him up and down. It wasn't long before her stare landed on me.

It was as if she had caught sight of a piece of trash that had littered her perfectly pristine throne room, her hostility immediately apparent. "And the Sun Summoner," she smiled, everything about her gracious but her eyes. I made no move, staring back at her and curling my lips into the barest of smiles. "A pleasure," I tightly spoke. She snapped her fingers, immediately causing several of her ladies to rush to her side, frantically fanning her with expensive silk paper fans. "We have determined the gala will be a masquerade," she adjusted the mountain of curls piled on her head as she gazed at Aleksander through lidded eyes, "Is that to your liking?" He merely nodded, interrupting her before she could continue, "If that is all of the necessary information, we have had a long journey and request to be shown to our chambers." She flushed, haughtily evaluating his impassive, bored features. "Of course, we hope you enjoy your stay." Her mouth was tight. A flurry of servants took her place as she ascended back to her throne. "Right this way," the serf girl squeaked. Aleksander's hand tightened around mine as we followed. He bent down slightly, his lips gliding over my ear, "She is nothing compared to you." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, remaining silent as we strode down the hallway after the servant.

_If the two hadn't been so occupied with thinking about each other, they might have sensed a presence, and its sharp eyes that followed them all the way into their quarters._

_They were being watched._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it's what inspires me to keep writing :)


	21. what do you want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm hello?? 100 kudos and 2000 hits?? im shaking rn thank you guys so so so much. im not gonna give anything away for this chapter, other than shit is going down, so be prepared.
> 
> enjoy <3

"Alina."

I ran my hands through the loose waves curled into my hair, my gaze lingering on my gown clad reflection before I turned to face Aleksander. My eyebrow arched of its own accord. He was holding up two identical black keftas, both littered with sparkling diamonds. "Black or black?" he questioned, his tone serious but his eyes giving away a hint of humor. A mocking gasp escaped my lips, "Did Aleksander Morozova just make a joke?" He smiled, his teeth dazzlingly white. Though I doubted I had seen the expression more than a handful of times, it was breathtakingly beautiful and somehow easy. I desperately crushed the butterflies in my stomach, averting my gaze as he placed one of the silk garments into my hand. The motion was familiar as I clasped the intricate eclipse at my neck. He mirrored my actions, his gaze falling back to an impassive smolder of intensity. A brisk knock at the door made me stiffen. "That's our cue," I cleared my throat nervously, gathering my soft lace skirts.

"I have something for you."

I swallowed painfully hard. "Not another collar, I hope," I softly spoke, my breath hitching as he pulled out a small black box from his pocket. He turned it over in his slender fingers, extending his arm to offer it to me. My eyes flickered from him to the box several times. "Why," I breathed. A tightness had contracted my lungs into a tight coil. He offered no reply, simply waiting for me to accept it. My hands uncurled from my silken skirts, the fabric falling back into place as I cautiously took the velvet box. "Well, Alina? Open it," he prompted, casting his eyes down towards it impatiently. I flicked my index finger over the metal clasp, pulling it open. My lips parted.

A necklace, patterned intricately, sculpted into a sun with a moon surrounding it. "Real Ravkan silver," he commented, pulling the necklace out and letting it dangle from his fingers. It felt like I had lost the ability to speak, my mouth opening and closing like an idiot. "Saints, Aleksander," I finally managed to get out, my voice faint. "Can I put it on you?" he inquired, his voice softening to match mine. He was asking me to do something?

_Who was this person?_

Something inside me twisted painfully, so much so that my eyes burned with the threat of tears. "Yes," I nodded, not trusting my voice beyond that. His fingers curled around my shoulder, gently turning me so my back was towards him. My breaths were shaky in my lungs as he brushed back the brown waves of hair from my neck, exposing my skin. Goosebumps raised on my arms as his fingers brushed against my collarbone, deftly clasping the chain. The pendant fell just above the bottom of the stag, the smooth metal light against my skin. "Light and darkness," Aleksander murmured, his hands coming to a rest at my waist. My eyes strayed to the mirror in front of us, taking in the way we almost seem to fit perfectly together. "Thank you." I could think of nothing else to say, though my mind was chaotic with a storm of thoughts.

Was this manipulation? A genuine act? What did the necklace mean, that he saw us as equals?

I felt dizzy with uncertainty as he pressed a soft kiss along the curve of my neck. Another knock at the door made me stiffen. He didn't seem to care, his lips lightly dancing across my skin. "We're going to be late, let's go," I sighed, untangling his arms from me and gathering my skirts again. He said nothing, and I knew he was brooding from my rejection when he followed me silently to the door. A flurry of servants and guards were upon us as soon as I eased the door open, handing us our handcrafted masks. My teeth sunk into my lower lip as I pulled the black material over my head, adjusting it so I could see.

Maybe it could cover the shame of my newfound realization that I might be falling in love with Aleksander Morozova.

***

"The war has come to an end!"

The Fjerdan king raised his glass in a toast, prompting a chorus of shouts of confirmation from the nobles that filled the ballroom to capacity. Aleksander remained silent when the king looked to him, merely dipping his head slightly as he raised his glass. The air to the room was tense, to say the least, as the orchestra began to play lilting, celebratory music that didn't nearly match the strained atmosphere. "Such a grand party," the queen drawled, her red painted lips curving as she gazed at Aleksander. "It is adequate," he toned evenly. Her smirk settled back into an irritated line. "We appreciate your graciousness," the king bared his teeth in what I presumed was a smile, pausing before he tightly added, "Moi tsar." Aleksander curled his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. "We look forward to seeing what you have to offer us," he canted his head slightly.

A provocation, a test. I kept my mouth sealed to the lip of my glass, rolling the champagne around on my tongue as the tension grew between the two egotistical men. "And we look forward to serving you," he finally replied, almost as if the words physically pained him. "Excellent." I gasped as Aleksander abruptly swept me into his arms, pulling me out onto the floor where the couples were all dancing in wide, patterned circles. I let him guide me into a leisurely waltz, his hands at my waist and my arms around his neck. His expression was irritatingly obscured behind his mask, not that could I read him half the time anyways. We fell into a thick silence as we danced, his hand warm where it rested against the small of my back. I could tell he was watching me through the mask in the way his grip tightened whenever I looked away. It seemed I could look anywhere but him, as if it would deter the words that danced at my tongue, eager to be voiced.

 _I love you, Aleksander Morozova_.

Something about the phrase seemed terribly wrong and breathtakingly right at the same time. It was different from what I felt with Mal. This was all consuming, a fire that burned within the depths of my soul. He was the breath in my lungs that kept me alive, and that would most surely be my destruction. And yet there was nothing I could possibly do about it, I was already his. "What are you thinking about." I almost tripped over my own feet, stumbling before he quickly righted me. "Just," I hesitated, knowing any lie I made up wouldn't be convincing. There was a beat of silence, before I frantically blurted, "You look really handsome." He regarded me for a moment before he pulled me closer, causing our chests to touch. "I have ways of convincing you to tell me, Alina, I'll coax it out of you sooner or later," he spoke, his voice silky with seduction. I exhaled, my cheeks beginning to burn pink from underneath my mask. He chuckled softly at my reaction, but didn't push it any further.

We fell back into a more comfortable silence, our bodies now so close that I had to rest my head against his chest. His heartbeat pulsed evenly against my cheek, steady and sure. "So what would you like to do with this palace now that it's no longer needed?" The question was laced with a hint of spite, but it was genuine. My fingers absently played with the ends of his hair, "I don't know, you could turn it into a storage locker for weaponry in case there's an uprising." His breaths were flush against my neck, our steps had slowed to a peaceful sway. "It could be an orphanage," he mused softly. My feet froze in their place.

I quickly pushed away from him, my heartbeat speeding up so suddenly that dark spots swirled across my vision. "Do you really mean that?" I was breathless, emotion filling my voice so fully I couldn't possibly hide it from him. We had stopped moving entirely now. He was silent for a brief second before his fingers curled around his mask, pulling it from his face. His silver eyes immediately fastened on mine, "I know what it's like to be a child with no home." I moved before I could stop myself, my lips were on his with a storming passion. He cupped my cheeks with his slender fingers, stroking my skin as he whispered incoherent things against my mouth. A monster. A monster with a heart of darkness, maybe. "Aleksander," I couldn't continue when my words faltered with an emotion so complex I could hardly decipher it myself. Something between gratitude and relief, that there could be hope for him. "Alina." The way he said my name was like a promise, a cradle of protection. The words were seconds away from rolling off my tongue. My mouth opened, only to be interrupted by the ringing tone of knife against glass.

Both of us turned as the crowded room was quickly silenced. "I'd like to make another toast," the King spoke, rising from his throne. The queen was nowhere to be seen. His gaze settled on me and Aleksander, tangled in our embrace. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm, yanking me backward before I could react. A knife pressed against my throat.

"Long live the Fjerdan empire."

The sounds of guns cocking filled the room, but Aleksander only had eyes for me, shadows crackling at his fingertips. "Let her go," he toned, calm with cold anger. My wrists were locked behind my back, I couldn't possibly summon.

"And there's my cue for the dramatic entrance."

All the breath left me as a figure appeared from the shadows behind the king, an all too familiar grin on his lips. "Nikolai," I sobbed, my knees almost giving out. He ignored me, his stare fixed on Aleksander, who looked increasingly ready to kill every last person in the room. "You wouldn't kill her," Aleksander finally spoke, his tone so frighteningly casual it was as if he were discussing a simple business negotiation. Nikolai looked to me for the briefest second, his grin faltering. "For Ravka, I would do anything." I knew the words were true, he would no doubt sacrifice me for the good of his country. "So what do you want?" Aleksander dryly questioned. I squirmed, causing the man who was holding me to increase the pressure of the blade. "We're taking my lost love Alina with me, and of course we insist your surrender," Nikolai casually leaned back against the Fjerdan king's throne, making the older man scowl in annoyance. "This talk is futile," Aleksander gritted his teeth, "I could cut you in half in a second, sobachka." In a span of a blink Nikolai had pulled a pistol from his jacket, training it at Aleksander's head. "Let's have a little race then," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. The arm at my neck had tightened, I could feel my windpipe being restricted, each breath more of a struggle than the last.

"Aleks-"

The arm jerked backwards, making me gag, a choking, strangled sound falling from my lips at the sharp pain. I had both of their attention now. Nikolai frowned, a crease appearing between his brows, "Loosen your grip, soldier, she can't breathe." His attention had been diverted, and Aleksander had seized his chance. His fingertips darkened with the sharp edges of shadows, he raised his hand into an all too familiar motion-

"Nikolai!" My scream was raw with terror, I had ripped my arms from the man who held me and I was arcing my own light to stop him in the span of a breath. A sickening crack exploded through the palace as the Cut was deflected.

Then all hell broke loose.

Nobles screamed in terror, scattering wildly as a swarm of nichevo'ya materialized almost immediately, wreaking havoc that quickly began to paint the room red. I stood frozen, my mouth parted in horror as the shadowed creatures tore apart the Fjerdan guard that had tried to launch himself at me. A hand, then two, yanked at my wrists, pulling me backwards into a crowd of screaming bodies. I dangled from their grip in horror as swarms of blue and red battled, Grisha fighting Grisha fighting otkazat'sya fighting nichevo'ya. "Sankta! You must come!" I was snapped from my daze by a man, his face emblazoned with a black tattoo of the sun. I didn't have time to resist, they pulled me behind them with brute force out through the palace doors. Our feet echoed on the cobblestones, the only sound besides our labored breaths, an eerie quiet in comparison to the battle raging inside.

The Hummingbird was floating lazily in the gentle breeze, anchored to a gilded pole mounted with the Fjerdan flag. "Get on, get on!" I was pushed onto the deck, stumbling straight into the arms of a girl with blazing red hair. "Genya!" My voice was a barely intelligible sob. They were all here. Zoya. David. Harshaw. Tolya. Tamar. Nadia. "How?" I breathlessly asked, my whole body numb with shock. "We can cover that later, Alina, in the meantime I'd like to survive," Zoya smarted, her jaw clenching, "That bastard prince had better get here soon or we're all dead." Right on schedule, the palace doors exploded open, Nikolai sprinting towards the ship flanked by two guards.

"Go, go, go!" He shouted desperately, frantically glancing over his shoulder as a swarm of nichevo'ya screamed at his heels. I grasped the side of the ship, my fingernails sinking into the wood as we started to ascend. A rope dangled below, he had launched himself in the air, his fingertips brushing over the end... The ship jolted with his weight as he secured his grip. His guards, left behind, were torn into a pile of limbs shortly after. "Haul him up!" Tamar pushed at her brother, who gently nudged my shell shocked body to the side, hoisting Nikolai onto the safety of the deck. He was out of breath, but a sly, too clever fox grin adorned his lips as his feet hit the wooden planks, "Did you miss me?" Another sob tore at my throat as I threw myself into his hard chest, collapsing into him. He hugged me back with the same intensity, a mournful bitterness to his laugh, "Don't get too excited, I thought we were waiting to tell everyone about our epic romance." I hit him half heartedly, pulling away to wipe at the tears in my eyes.

A flicker of black flashed across my vision, I was leaning back over the railing before I could stop myself. Aleksander. I felt the cry of rage as much as I heard it as he looked up at our rapidly fading ship, too far now for his shadows to reach. And then he disappeared as clouds obstructed my vision. Nausea passed over me in a hot wave.

I threw up. Violently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is where I slide back into ruin and rising plot like a fucking ninja. go me amiright. as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep on writing :)


	22. i spared them once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey whats up you guys welcome back to my channel sorry for the wait
> 
> this chapter has a similar structuring to the very very first chapter of this fic, the middle of it I kind of used Leigh's writing as an outline and then added my own touch to make it fit my style and the direction of the story a bit more. the first and last scene are both pretty much entirely my own writing, though. this will also probably be the only other section that directly takes from the book, I am following a similar rough outline of the major events that happen here in r&r, but by no means will it be the same and it will all be my own writing. glad we got that boring shit out of the way, and please Leigh don't sue me!!
> 
> enjoy <3

"First tears, now vomit," Nikolai rubbed my back at a carefully measured arms length, "Don't tell me I've lost my touch." My fingers were white as I dangled over the side of the boat, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. "I'm afraid you've lost your touch, Nikolai," I tried to laugh, which promptly turned into a fit of retching that turned my insides. A cool breeze wafted against my clammy skin, making me let out a sigh of relief at the feeling. The nausea passed shortly after, enough so that I finally was able to stand up straight, taking in the ship. Nikolai leaned next to me, following my gaze up towards the sails snapping in the wind. "How did you do it?" I managed to ask without gagging. "My hair? Just a bit of wind for the volume, the rest is just my devastatingly handsome genetics," he smirked. I hit him. "You make me regret ever missing you," I scowled.

He chuckled, falling silent before shrugging, "Struck a deal with the Fjerdans. It seems they don't want to live under the Darkling's rule any more than we do. Same story with a group of Grisha we got out from Os Alta after you left." Something inside me twisted painfully. "How are the King and Queen?" He snorted and said, "Fine. Bored. There's little for them to do." He adjusted the cuff of his coat, "They took Vasily's loss hard." "I'm sorry," I placed my hand on his arm. In truth, I'd spared little thought for Nikolai's older brother. "He brought it on himself, but I'm surprised to say I'm sorry too." The words held a grim truth to them. "Alina," he seemed to struggle, "I'm sorry. About..." I shook my head, stopping him mid sentence before he could finish. "Thank you." My voice was soft, I could give him nothing else without unraveling.

A flicker of haunting ice blue eyes lingered in my mind.

My gaze wandered. Below us, I could see the beginnings of the white reaches of the permafrost and, far beyond, the shape of mountains in the distance. He pushed off the railing. "I need to pilot us into the mountains." "The mountains?" I asked reproachfully, my eyes casting out toward the snow capped peaks in the distance. "We're heading deeper into Fjerda," he grinned in a crooked manner. "Oh, good. Our hideout in enemy territory. And here I was starting to relax." He laughed, a slight shake of his head causing his sandy hair to fall into his eyes. "These are my skies," Nikolai said with a wink. Then he strolled across the deck, whistling a familiar, off-key tune. I'd missed him. The way he talked. The way he attacked a problem. The way he brought hope with him wherever he went.

Nothing like Aleksander.

In fact, in the very definition of the word, they were opposites, excluding their love for Ravka. The thought of Aleksander left me breathless, his cries of anger echoing in my ears, more haunting than the volcra had ever been. "Alina, are you okay? You're shaking," Genya had replaced Nikolai at my side, her fingers wrapping around my arm in concern. I nodded, carefully swallowing down the _no_ that wanted to escape. "You're also glowing again," Zoya smarted, drawing the attention of everyone on board over to me. I was too exhausted to try and quench the light that seemed to constantly disobey my call now. "A side affect of having three amplifiers, you glow," I replied acerbically. She arched a brow before rolling her eyes, muttering something under her breath. I caught the word _dramatic_. "Isn't she just a ray of sunshine," I said to Genya, making her snicker. "She's just jealous because you're currently the most beautiful person on this ship," she winked. I self consciously pulled at my dress, my cheeks flushing.

In time we were tacking toward the mountain range I'd glimpsed. From my days as a mapmaker, I knew they were the northernmost peaks of the Sikurzoi, the range that stretched across most of Ravka's eastern and southern border. The Fjerdans called them the Elbjen, the Elbows, though as we drew closer, it was hard to tell why. They were massive, snowcapped things, all white ice and gray rock. They would have dwarfed the Petrazoi. If those were elbows, I didn't want to know what they were attached to. We climbed higher, so much so it became harder to breathe. The air grew frigid as we drifted into the thick cloud cover that hid the steepest of the peaks. I hugged the silken kefta tighter around my shoulders, my lacy gown providing little warmth. When we emerged above the mass of clouds, I released an awed gasp. Here, the few mountaintops tall enough to pierce the clouds seemed to float like islands in a white sea. It was as if we were back on Sturmhound's ship, before he was Nikolai, when he was no more than a cunning privateer. The tallest of the peaks looked like it was clutched by huge fingers of frost, and as we arced around it, I thought I saw shapes in the ice.

A narrow stone staircase zigzagged up the cliff face, delicately carved and sparkling in the light. What lunatic would make that climb? And for what possible purpose? I shook my head, suppressing my own laugh. Nikolai was the lunatic that would make that climb, and I had no doubt there would be countless individuals that would follow him without question. He seemed to have that effect on people.

We rounded the mountain, drawing closer and closer to the rock. Just as I was about to call out in panic, we rolled hard to the right. Suddenly, we were between two frozen walls. The ship swerved precariously and we promptly entered an echoing stone hangar. Nikolai really had been busy. We crowded at the railing, gaping at the hectic bustle around us. Three other crafts were docked in the hangar: a second cargo barge annular to the ship we were on currently, the sleek Kingfisher, and a similar vessel that bore the name Bittern. Like the Kingfisher, the Bittern had double hulls, though they were flatter and wider at the base, and equipped with what looked like sled runners. Nikolai's crew threw lines over the Pelican's rail, and workers ran forward to catch them, stretching them taut and tying them to steel hooks secured in the hangar's walls and floor. We touched down with a thud and a deafening, toe curling screech as hull scraped against stone. David frowned disapprovingly. "Too much weight."

"Don't look at me," Tolya rumbled, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest. When I glanced over to him, Nikolai seemed especially excited, practically skipping over to my side. "You've been busy," I voiced my thoughts, tilting my head slightly. "Want to know my secret?" Nikolai asked, a crooked grin on his lips. I rolled my eyes. His expression shifted to serious as he leaned in, looked from left to right before whispering loudly, "I have a lot of money." I snorted. "No, really," he protested, "A lot of money." I tried to swipe at him again, but he dodged just a brief moment before it landed on his arm, darting down the ramp into the hanger with a taunting laugh. We all watched in relative silence as he gave orders to the waiting dockworkers for repairs and then led our ragged, wide-eyed band to a doorway in the rock. "Everybody in," he said, gesturing to the cramped space. Confused, we crowded into the little rectangular room. The walls looked like they were made of iron, a dark, reflective gray that I could just barely make out my reflection in. I gathered my extraordinarily long skirts, pulling them close to my chest so they wouldn't get trampled. Nikolai pulled a gate closed across the entry.

"You're on my foot," Zoya complained grumpily, but we were all wedged in so tightly it was hard to tell who she was angry at. "What is this?" I asked, my apprehension growing. Nikolai flashed me what could only be described at the smile of a devil. He dropped a lever, and we let loose a collective scream as the room shot upward, taking my stomach with it. We jolted to a halt several seconds later. My gut slammed back down to my shoes, and the gate slid open with a melodic, cheery sound. Nikolai stepped out, doubled over with laughter, "I never tire of that." We piled out of the box as fast as we could, all except for David, who lingered to fiddle with the lever mechanism. "Careful there," Nikolai called in amusement, "The trip down is bumpier than the trip up." Genya took David's arm and yanked him clear. "Saints," I swore, "I forgot how often I want to stab you."

"So I haven't lost my touch."

"Please tell me there are stairs. I'd rather set up permanent house here than ever get back in that thing," I glanced back at it in disdain. "Of course there are stairs, but they're less entertaining. And once you've dragged yourself up and down four flights of them enough, you'll find you're far more open-minded." I was about to argue, but as I took a good look around, the words died on my tongue. If the hangar had been impressive, then this was simply miraculous. It was the biggest room I'd ever been in, twice, maybe three times as wide and as tall as the domed hall in the Little Palace. It wasn't even a room, I realized. We were standing at the top of a hollowed-out mountain. Now I understood what I had seen as we approached aboard the Pelican. The frost fingers were actually enormous bronze columns cast in the shapes of people and creatures. They towered above us, bracketing huge panels of glass that looked out on the ocean of cloud below. The glass was so clear that it gave the space an eerie sense of openness, as if a wind might blow through and send me tumbling into the nothingness beyond. My heart started to hammer. "Deep breaths," Nikolai placed a hand on my shoulder, "It can be overwhelming at first."

The room was teeming with people, all impossibly busy with various different tasks. Some bunched in groups where drafting tables and bits of machinery had been set up. Others were marking stacks upon stack of crates of supplies in a kind of makeshift warehouse. Another area had been set aside for training; soldiers sparred with dulled swords while others summoned Squaller winds or cast Inferni flame. Through the glass, I saw terraces protruding in four directions, giant spikes like compass points—north, south, east, west. Two had been set aside for target practice. Everything here was bursting with life and hope. It all bore Nikolai's stamp. "What is this place?" I asked as we slowly made our way through. "It was originally a pilgrimage site, back when Ravka's borders extended farther north," Nikolai replied, "The Monastery of Sankt Demyan." Sankt Demyan of the Rime. At least that explained the winding staircase we'd glimpsed. Only faith or fear could get anyone to make that climb. Or Nikolai. I remembered Demyan's page from the Istorii Sankt'ya. He'd performed some kind of miracle near the northern border. I was pretty sure he'd been stoned to death.

"A few hundred years ago, it was turned into an observatory," Nikolai continued, gesturing to the space pointedly. He pointed to a hulking brass telescope tucked into one of the glass niches. "It's been abandoned for over a century. I heard about it during the Halmhend campaign, but it took some finding. Now we just call it the Spinning Wheel." Then it struck me, my eyes growing wide the the realization. The bronze columns were constellations, the Hunter with his drawn bow, the Scholar bent in study, the Three Foolish Sons, huddled together, trying to share a single coat. The Bursar, the Bear, the Beggar. The Shorn Maiden wielding her bone needle. Twelve in all: the spokes of the Spinning Wheel. I had to crane my neck all the way back to get a view of the glass dome high above us. The sun was setting and through it, I could see the sky turning a lush, deep blue. If I squinted, I could just make out a twelve-pointed star at the dome's center. "So much glass," I whispered, my head reeling from the sheer enormity of it all. "But no frost," Tamar noted thoughtfully. "Heated pipes," David responded immediately before Nikolai had the chance to, "They're in the floor. Probably embedded in the columns too." It was, in fact, hotter in this room. Still cold enough that I was uncomfortable in my thin gown, but my feet were pleasantly warm through my shoes. "There are boilers beneath us," Nikolai explained with a hint of pride, "The whole place runs on melted snow and steam heat. The problem is fuel, but I've been stockpiling coal." "For how long?" I asked, making that too clever fox grin reappear. "Two years. We started repairs when I had the lower caverns turned into hangars. It's not an ideal vacation spot, but sometimes you just want to get away."

I was impressed, but also unnerved. Being around Nikolai was always like this, watching him shift and change with practiced ease, revealing secrets as he went. He reminded me of the wooden nesting dolls I'd played with as a child. Except instead of getting smaller, he just kept getting grander and more mysterious. Tomorrow, he'd probably tell me he'd built a pleasure palace on the moon. _Tough to get to, but quite a view. And a lovely getaway for our soon to be honeymoon._

"Have a look around," Nikolai leaned back against the wall, "Get a feel for the place. Nevsky's unloading cargo in the hangar, and I need to take care of repairs to the hull." I remembered Nevsky. He'd been a soldier in Nikolai's old regiment, the Twenty-Second, and not particularly fond of Grisha. "Nikolai," I caught his sleeve as he turned away, promptly causing him to look back at me.

"Genya will be safe," I spoke, firmly hardening the phrase into a statement. His eyes briefly flickered to where she was standing next to David, her lips parted with awe as she gazed up at the cavernous space. "She'll be safe, Alina," he confirmed with a hint of solemn that look alien on his lips, "My parents are already evacuated to foreign waters, they won't know of her existence here." I nodded, allowing ghost of a smile in gratitude. He took my hand, gently squeezing it before turning away, heading back towards the metal box. Slowly but surely, the tension left my body as he cheekily waved, the door shutting before he shot back down in the contraption of death. "Alina, come see!" Genya called excitedly, her nose practically pressed up against the glass window in excitement. They were all crowded in front of the view, prompting my pace to quicken until I squeezed between Harshaw and Genya. Snow capped peaks stretched for as far as the eye could see, their jagged edges overlapping and fitting together like the pieces of a crudely made puzzle. "Wouldn't it be fun to just blow one of the tops of those mountains up?" Harshaw grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think I've had enough destruction for one day," I rolled my eyes, making him snicker. "Well we're safe now," Nadia smiled with a measure of peacefulness I couldn't quite reciprocate. "For now," I whispered so softly no one could have possibly heard it.

***

Dusk had slunk in on the horizon when I was finally shown to my chambers. Tolya and Tamar had accompanied me through a set of rooms on the eastern side of the mountain. The door frame was formed by the clasped hands of two bronze maidens I thought might be meant to embody the Morning and Evening Stars. Inside, the far wall was entirely taken up by a round window, ringed in riveted brass like a sidescuttle on a ship. The lanterns were lit, and though the view would most likely be spectacular in the daytime, right now, there was nothing to see but darkness and my own tired face looking back at me. "We'll be right next door, okay?" Tamar assured me earnestly, "And one of us will be always posted while you sleep." A pitcher of hot water was waiting for me by the basin, and I rinsed my face as they explained to me the extension of my personal guard, but how one of them would accompany me at all times, as they knew I trusted them the most.

A sharp pain lumped in my throat as I tried not to think of Mal, his stubbled jaw set with determination as he kept watch at my door. "Thank you both, but can we finish this briefing tomorrow? I'm exhausted," I mumbled, trying to keep the emotion from my voice. They exchanged a glance before nodding, bowing to me. "We will be outside, Sankta," Tolya promised, a beat of silence ensuing before they turned, leaving me. I let my eyes travel across the dark room, my sluggish steps taking me to the edge of the ornately carved bed. My body practically collapsed into the mountain of pillows without caution, exhaustion rendering me limp. I couldn't suppress the aching pain that had taken hold in my chest, a silent cry that demanded to be recognized. I knew _he_ felt it. And just as a quiet sob had released from my throat, I felt the vibration along the tether. I didn't have the strength to go to him, instead I let my invisible walls crumble, letting him in. I felt his presence immediately, but I couldn't bring myself to look. "I assume you're not choked up about your sudden departure from me. The otkazat'sya again, perhaps?" The thinly concealed malice in his voice almost made me recoil. Instead I looked up at him through puffy eyes, taking in his form leaning up against the post of the bed. "Aleksander," I softly uttered, my throat constricting around his name. Saints be damned, the sight of him was sickeningly comforting. 

 _I love you, Aleksander Morozova_.

Something in his demeanor softened the slightest fraction. "I have given you everything, my Alina, and you run back to the sobachka as if he is your newfound replacement for the tracker." There was a strange edge to his tone, one I couldn't quite put my finger on. "I didn't plan this, Aleksander, I was the one that didn't even want to go to Fjerda in the first place," I shot back. How had I gone from sobbing to this in a split second? He canted his head, straightening off of the bedpost and quietly approaching the side of the bed I was perched on. "Regardless, you made the choice to run with them. I had hoped you had finally accepted that your destiny is to be by my side, Alina. But I seem to be a victim of my own wishes where you are concerned." His silver eyes pierced through me as he moved closer, the shadows clinging to his body. I remained silent, my heart pounding in my throat.

"Come here, Alina," he toned, a dangerous softness about him. I shifted forward, feeling especially small. Like a little mouse, once again. He lifted a slender finger, tracing the contour of my cheekbone with a gentleness that made me shiver under his touch. "What would you have me do, Aleksander," I whispered, "You're trying to destroy all of the people I love." His gaze had strayed, now that he was touching me he could see my surroundings. "I spared them once," he equably responded, as if we were rehashing an argument over what to eat for dinner. "You would spare Nikolai?" I raised an eyebrow in challenge. His eyes snapped back to me, the mask of calm cracking at the mention of Nikolai. "There is only so far that my _mercy_ extends, Alina," he practically hissed, spitting the word like an insult. His hands at my waist were still surprisingly gentle as he pulled me closer towards his body, despite his apparent anger.

"His life is not a point of negotiation with me," I stared at him, my words sharp. My skin was hot underneath his touch. I let out a shaky breath as he traced my features with his eyes, as if he were determined to know every last inch of me like I was his own. They gradually moved to the necklace he had given to me. I still hadn't been able to taken it off, instead I had tucked it under the lace of my dress to keep it relatively hidden from view. The sound of my own soft exhale filled the room, my eyes fluttering closed as he leaned forward, his lips gently dancing against my forehead. "Then you have sealed the fate of them all, my dear Alina," he whispered.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing :)


	23. you seem cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry in advance, based on the reaction from the last chapter, this will also be another emotional one. IM SORRY OKAY we know excessive angst is a must have for any alarkling fic. but again, I apologize and I will tell you that you will love me again (hopefully) after the next couple of chapters are uploaded. I hope that was enough comfort, probably not, feel free to hate on me. but not actually because im a seNsiTivE sOuL okay 
> 
> I personally really like this chapter, so I hope you enjoy :)

"Rise and shine, my beautiful Sankta!"

I couldn't help the offended groan that escaped my lips as bright light suddenly flooded the chambers, visible even through my tightly shut eyelids. "Nikolai, not to be rude, but get out," I grumbled, turning over in the tangle of sheets and blankets and burying my head into the sweet darkness of my pillow. His cheerful tone was achingly grating to my exhaustion stemmed headache. "Oh, but my dearest, you're addressing your faithful subjects today," he grinned, making my eyes snap open in response to the words. "You're joking," I eyed him, pushing my tangled hair back from my face. "I wish I was," he swooned, his golden hair shining in the morning light as he leaned against the window frame. "I'm not their leader," I frowned, my mouth souring. His smile thinned for a brief moment, falling to seriousness. "The Grisha that fled the palace? They came because of their faith in you, Alina, you are their leader, whether you like it or not." 

_We are constant in this world Alina. We are meant to shape it into something greater._

My teeth clenched, grinding together, doing nothing for my pounding headache. Why was everyone so set on turning me into a leader, a sovereign, a queen? There was hundreds of those that were better suited for the job. "Fine, I'll do it," I conceded with a sigh, my eyes narrowing with a hint of playfulness shortly after, "Now go away, Nikolai." He flashed me a smile that shone so brightly I thought it might blind me. I raised a single eyebrow when he didn't move. "Don't you have something better to do?" I prodded, resisting the urge to stand up and shove him out myself. 

"Maybe I've started pursuing some new hobbies." 

I snorted. "Staring at me does not qualify as a hobby." 

He shrugged, accompanied by that incorrigible, crooked grin, so infuriatingly comforting I wanted to cry. "I am many things, devastatingly handsome, intelligent, and humble, but above all I am a gentleman, so I will leave you to change," he bowed with a grand flourish that made me roll my eyes at his dramatics. "I'll fashion a medal of valor for you," I couldn't stop the smile that curled at the edges of my lips when he turned away. "I'll gladly add it to my vast, vast collection," he tossed over his shoulder. I shook my head, laughing with a slight tinge of disbelief.

God damnit, I had missed him.

***

I was dizzily nervous. Cold sweat clung to my palms in a sickly manner, my skin was sheer white. What would I say to these people that risked their safety and security because they believed in me? A girl who was, in fact, in love with the one that was their enemy? I was currently behind a thick red velvet curtain that led to the grand balcony where I would make my speech. Nikolai always had a flair for the dramatic. I could hear his powerful voice as he got the attention of the crowd of subjects, making a hush fall over the cavernous space. 

"Rescued and returned to help lead us with her light, Sankta Alina!"

The cheers and cries of joy were almost sickening as I pushed aside the thick velvet curtain, emerging onto the balcony. The warm morning light bathed me and Nikolai in a soothing glow.

"She has escaped!" "Our leader has returned!" "Sankta Alina is alive and well!"

My teeth latched to my lower lip as I caught several snatches of words among the deafening cheers. "I have returned." The sound of my voice quieted the crowd almost immediately. Soldiers and civilians, Grisha and otkazat'sya alike all looked to me as one. All begging for the same question to be answered.

How would I save them?

"I have returned," I cleared my throat, my index finger thumbing over the firebird nervously. I looked to Nikolai, who nodded in encouragement. A deep breath calmed my nerves. When I spoke again, my voice was steady. "I have returned to bring and end to this fight. We will come together and by the power within all of us, we will bring peace to the land of Ravka. No more hiding, no more war. We will have peace. We will have it, and we will achieve it together." The words sounded more confident than I felt, but the roar of approval confirmed it was adequate enough to convince them that I was. I turned to Nikolai, who looked mildly impressed. "Short and sweet, much like yourself," he smirked, "Now do something dramatic with that light of yours." I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. With a wave of my hands I cast a sun of considerable size, letting the bright light linger for a moment before flicking my fingers, causing it to shatter into sparkling flecks of light that airily descended over the crowd like glitter. The cheers intensified. Nikolai took my hand, a letting a beat of stillness pass before he led me back through the dark red curtains.

"You are perfection!" he crowed ecstatically, "The drama? Outstanding. You must have picked up a thing or two from the best." I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips. "Do you really think it was good?" He laughed, a sound that made my whole body warm with its infectiousness. I startled, a gasp escaping my lips as he grabbed my hand, spinning me around into his arms and pulling me into him. "Have I ever lied to you?" He grinned. I almost snorted. "Do I even need to dignify that question with an answer?" His eyebrow arched in amusement. For a split second the expression looked so much like that of Aleksander that all of the happiness seemed to be drained from my body in a single moment.

"Ah, moi soverenyi," A guard hesitantly called, saving me from the treacherous turn to my thoughts. "What is it," Nikolai kept the light tone to his words, but I could tell he was itching to ask me what was wrong. "You have a visitor," he stepped aside, revealing a little girl with chubby cheeks and a gap toothed smile. "Sankta!" Sasha squealed in excitement, pushing through the mass of intimidating guards with no sign of fear and running straight to me. "Moya kroshka," I breathed, kneeling down and letting her bounce into my arms. "Your madraya decided to come with us?" I questioned softly. Her small, chubby fingers latched onto mine. "I decided Sankta, all by myself, I don't have a madraya," she grinned proudly, despite the inherent sadness to her words. 

She was an orphan. 

I swallowed hard. "Well I'm glad you came, little one," I squeezed her hand in my own, a protective instinct enveloping me. "Why don't you go eat lunch with the rest of your friends," Nikolai smiled encouragingly. She looked up at him in awe before quickly nodding, still bursting with pride and excitement, apparent by the way she squirmed and couldn't seem to stand still. A guard approached, his voice rough as he bowed, "I will take her, moi soverenyi." I felt a pair of eyes on me. When I looked up, Aleksander was watching from the shadows in the corner of the room, a bemused expression on his face. Something about the look made me want to be sick. "We should eat also, Nikolai," I murmured, not daring to break eye contact with Aleksander. "My thoughts exactly," he took my hand. Aleksander vanished in the time it took me to blink.

***

In mere days, we had fallen into the rhythm of life at the Spinning Wheel. Zoya, Genya, and David held classes for the younger Grisha. Nikolai and I attended countless war meetings. We ate, we slept, we got up each morning and did our duty.

I hated it.

My lust for power had grown, that fact grossly apparent by my bitterness towards the monotony of the days. I wanted so much more. And, yet I was so terrified of myself I knew I couldn't succumb to the desire. "Starkov," Zoya snapped irritably, pulling me from my thoughts. "I'm sorry Zoya, I just have a lot on my mind," I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. She flicked an imaginary piece of dust from her blue velvet kefta, "We get it, you're the Sun Summoner. I'll kiss your feet and bow later. Meanwhile, are you going to decide if the children will be allowed to train to fight?" The question was a loaded one. We needed every last body we could get if we were going to challenge Aleksander and his monsters. But if I said yes, I would be sending children, _children_ , to their deaths. "Let them train," I sighed, my words heavy, "When the time comes, they will be allowed to decide." She nodded, pausing for a moment as she stared at me thoughtfully. "You're strong Alina, and I know you'll get us through this." My jaw almost dropped at the soft, kind tone to her voice. Quickly, she turned, her glossy black waves floating around her as she headed back to where her Summoner students waited. My gaze flitted to Genya, who was avidly demonstrating how to manipulate skin, then over to David, who had a huddle of students at his shoulders as he showed them how to forge Grisha steel. They all had a place, a purpose. And here I was, standing around and watching with no purpose like an absolute idiot. Yet everyone still believed in _me_ like I was their savior. 

"Alina." I jumped, making Nikolai chuckle as he settled into the wall next to me. "Another war meeting?" I questioned, my voice dull. "Alas, I just wanted to bask in your glorious company," he placed the back of his hand against his forehead, pretending to swoon. "Well now's your chance." A crooked smile adorned his lips as he looked down at me, nothing but warmth in his gaze. "Okay Nikolai, what do you really want," I crossed my arms, keeping my tone light and playful. "I've been thinking," he mused, leaning back and tilting his head to the side so he could still look at me, "All of that time in the Darkling's evil clutches, you must have figured out some sort of weakness or information we could use, right?" Nikolai, always the strategist. My thoughts shifted.

 _You make me so weak_.

His voice drifted through my mind like a soft caress, so familiar by now that I could clearly hear him say the words. Despite all he had said to me, Aleksander had no weakness when it came to power. Nothing would stop him. "Our only chance is to isolate him," I murmured softly, my eyes casting downward. Nikolai tapped his lips in thought, entirely oblivious to the internal conflict I was desperately trying to suppress. "Maybe we'll surprise him," he smirked. I couldn't help a soft laugh from falling from my lips. "Maybe if you danced naked on the steps to the Grand Palace." His eyes glimmered with humor, "I'm sure he would enjoy the show, as would all of Ravka." I rolled my eyes.

His ego would be the death of me.

***

I gazed out at the snow capped peaks, my hands resting on the cold stone balcony. The wind whipped through my hair, bitingly cold and leaving my skin flushed with red. The inherent warmth of spring seemed to have no affect on the icy chill of the mountains.

"You seem cold."

I had sensed his presence before he spoke, thankfully allowing me not to give away my initial surprise that he had reached out to me again.

"Maybe because I am."

I heard his steps nearing, making me whip around to face him. The sight of his silver eyes left me breathless. His lips had quirked into a look of amusement as he scanned my figure clad in a white fur trimmed coat. "Black looks better on you." The smirk deepened when I shot him a glare. He was in an uncharacteristically good mood, which could mean nothing but trouble. "What are you so happy about," I arched a brow, working to keep my expression neutral. I was looking up at him now, he towered over me in stature. "Would you believe me if I said I was happy to see you?" he canted his head. I rolled my eyes. "No, Aleksander." He reached out, making me stiffen. But instead of touching me, his slender fingers curled around the necklace I still had yet to take off. He thumbed over the gleaming silver before letting it fall back against my throat. A stillness settled in the air between us.

 _I love you, Aleksander Morozova_.

The thought was a bitter one now, one that left me breathless from the guilt and pain of it. "Why are you here," I softly spoke, my thumb kneading against the rough edge of the fetter. "To remind you of your mistake, my Alina. To tell you that if you come back to me I might entertain your petty demands." His words held only a hint of spite. My grip tightened around the firebird, I could feel my skin being stripped away at the repetitive back and forth movement. "Would you be surprised if I said that I don't trust you in the slightest?" This time the curve of his lips was anything but a smile. He made no indication he would reply. "If you really wanted to be a better man like you said than you wouldn't do this to me," I continued, my voice trembling with the wave of emotion that had unexpectedly welled up in his presence, uncontrollable and wild, "You cant expect me to let everyone die and be okay with it! You can't just act like you might care and then try to completely destroy me! You can't-"

His hand caught my wrist, stilling my fingers. I hadn't realized I had been rubbing my thumb so hard that I had torn open the skin, causing it to bleed. A shaky breath escaped my lips, frosting in the cool air as I watched red droplets slowly spatter onto the stone underneath my feet. "Enough, Alina." His voice was soft, yet still so razor sharp it could have been a blade of Grisha steel. My breath was labored, there was so many things I wanted to say and do.

"I'm scared, Aleksander."

The admission was the last thing that I had wanted to come out, but somehow it did, nonetheless. His gaze drifted across the planes of my face, settling on the curve of my lips. "You wouldn't have to be." Every fiber of my being cried out in traitorous reply. _Yes_. I wanted the blanket of his security, his sureness, his power. My hand came to a rest on his chest. He was slightly warm, as if he had been sitting by a fire. "You know just as well as I that it's not that simple," I breathed, almost a shudder. He studied me, his fingers moving to the back of my neck, pulling me into him. There was nothing left to say.

I let my lips fall into the gravity of his kiss, unable to escape the unrelenting pull of his aura. I wanted to drown in the feeling of him. To let my selfishness and my love for him take over and consume me with darkness. I wanted him, so badly it hurt. And I could feel an echo of that in him too, in the way that he held me against him like I could vanish any second. In the way he tasted my skin every chance he possibly could. In the way he whispered my name against my lips like a promise.

That's what made it all the more painful when I sent the Cut slicing through the shadow of his existence, his eyes flying open in shock a mere second before he dissipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN IM SORRY PLEASE DONT PUNISH ME I have such a flair for the dramatic I must be related to nikolai tbh
> 
> please leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing and maybe it'll make me update faster so you'll get to know what happens next even sooner ;)


	24. why are you here with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this chapter up earlier than I thought I would, partly because you guys left so many nice words on the last chapter (thank you!), but still give me a pat on the back for getting it done hip hip hooray. more excessive angst is ahead, honestly I can't even say sorry anymore because I lovelovelovelove drama. hopefully you'll forgive me because we got some cute sasha, some sassy nikolai, some more angst, and some sexy ass aleksander all packed into this chapter. and the babies will be reunited soon, don't worry. 
> 
> some of these lines are taken from r&r, Leigh please don't sue me. :)
> 
> and you guys know your comments are always welcome, but I have a hard week ahead of me (emotionally) so if you want to cheer me up with some nice comments about the chapter that'd be bomb. 
> 
> enjoy <3
> 
> *moya kroshka = my little one (according to google translate because I don't speak russian sue me)

"Alina, Alina!" Sasha whined, trying to catch my attention. Her dainty little hand latched onto the calf of my leg, tugging insistently as she bounced excitedly on her feet. "Yes, moya kroshka," I absentmindedly responded, pouring over a pile of brittle maps, aged to the point where I thought they might crumble underneath my touch.

"Look!"

My lips couldn't help but curl into a smile as I looked down at her cheeky grin. She was manipulating the air to blow the thick dust into spirals that emulated something like an elegant, miniature tornado. I exhaled in amusement as she suddenly clapped her hands, allowing the dust to explode and rain back down to the floor. "Like your sparkles," she cheesed, referring to my initial demonstration from a week ago. The warm feeling that washed over me was a gentle reminder why I couldn't just give up. There were people, children, that looked to me to keep them safe, it was my _responsibility_ to keep them safe.

"You've been working hard on your summoning, haven't you," I remarked. She nodded vigorously, hopping up onto the chair next to me when I turned back to the war maps, "With miss teacher Zoya, she's scary sometimes, but not too scary." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the guards stationed at the door frown in disapproval as she looked over the battle plans I had laid out. Throughout the past couple of days, somehow Sasha had consistently managed to wiggle past them and spend time with me. I mean, who could possibly say no to that adorable face? "What is this for?" She leaned over the mess of papers, her eyes wide as she scanned the map of North Ravka I had laid out. "I'm figuring out an optimal path for mobilization against Os Alta," I murmured absentmindedly, purposefully using words she was too young to understand. My pen spilled dark ink against the paper as I made a note of a valley that could be useful.

"Does that mean you're going to have a fight with the Darkling?"

My eyes shot up in surprise to meet hers. Her intelligence for her age continued to surprise me. She met my stare, her ice blue eyes were curious with an innocence only a child could have. "Yes, Sasha," I sighed softly. Her head tilted in thought as her elbows came to a rest on the mahogany wood table. "But I thought he liked you and you were gonna get married and live happily ever after." She almost looked sad, like I had told her she couldn't have dessert. "Sometimes we don't have a happily ever after," I bitterly spoke, making her pout in response. "You're his princess, he told me himself," she mumbled, her eyes cast down as she traced the wood grain in the table. My mouth opened, but I found nothing would come out. That's what he had told her that day? She looked up again, the excitement flickering back to life in her eyes. "You should marry him, and then also marry prince Niki!"

Nikolai. Of course she had a nickname for him.

"I agree Sasha, but maybe just marry me, huh?"

"Right on schedule. Did you pay her?" I laughed as Nikolai lazily walked into the room, making him chuckle and grin at me with his signature roguish charm. "My little Sasha is just so smart," he winked at her. She climbed to her feet on top of the chair, stretching her arms out expectantly. He grabbed her, lifting her small body, making her giggle and wrap her arms around his neck. "Come hug, Alina!" Sasha held her hand out to me. Nikolai mirrored the movement, raising his eyebrows. "You two will be the death of me," I rolled my eyes, but allowed myself to be pulled into the crook of Nikolai's arm. "One happy family," he smirked, his lips pressing lightly against my cheek before I could react. "Ew," Sasha wrinkled her nose, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Come on you," Nikolai chuckled, planting a kiss on her cheek as well.

Was this what my life would be like in a future with Nikolai? It was almost picture perfect. I let myself relax into his arms, pushing away the thought that what I really wanted wasn't anywhere near picture perfect.

***

"I have never hated you more, Starkov," Zoya smarted as she practically drooled over the racks of dresses Nikolai had sent to my room. Something about looking the part of a Saint. In reality, I had no interest in bathing myself in superfluous luxury, so I had let Genya, Zoya, Nadia, and Tamar have their fun with the gowns. "Keep the insults coming, I live for your bitchiness, Zoya," I rolled my eyes, making her grin. Though neither of us would say we were the best of friends, we had come to a relatively amiable coexistence, peppered with the occasional nasty comment. "Look at this color," Genya sighed dreamily, pulling at the hem of a gold gown that shimmered in the light. Nadia and Tamar had wasted no time trying on dresses, giggling and mooning themselves in the mirror whilst sneaking in soft kisses.

 _Couples_. I almost snorted at the thought of me and Aleksander acting that way.

Zoya was eyeing the chest filled to the brim with diamonds and emeralds, sifting through the necklaces and bracelets and piling them onto her arms. "Alina, I can't believe you're not getting in on this," Nadia placed her hands on her hips as she turned to look back at me, arching a brow pointedly. "I've had enough of trying to dress myself up in order to look the part of a ruler," I shrugged. Whether it was black or gold and diamonds, I was truly exhausted of it. "Well my guess is that you'll be doing a lot of that in the future, with the way Nikolai has been looking at you lately," Genya smirked. I rolled my eyes, though the words made anxiety curl tightly in the pit of my stomach. The thought was terrifying, but strangely comforting at the same time. With Nikolai, the future was certain, expected, and as normal as life could be when your husband was a prince. "Do you really think he'll propose?" I softly asked, my hands now twisting uncomfortably in my lap. "He might as well have, with all the gifts he's showering you with," Tamar grinned mischievously. I flushed. "Toss him over," Zoya sniffed, "Break his heart cruelly. I will gladly give our poor prince comfort, and I would make a magnificent queen." I laughed. "You actually might, Zoya. If you could stop being horrible for a minute," I raised an eyebrow. "With that kind of incentive, I can manage a minute. Possibly two."

I sighed quietly, the breath especially heavy in my lungs. Months ago I would have said I would give it all up in a second to be normal. Now, I wasn't so sure. The girls stayed until the lamps burned low, and I was grateful for their company. But when they'd claimed the dresses they liked, and the rest of the finery had been wrapped and returned to the trunks, they said their goodnights. And I was alone once again, with a feeling of emptiness and one resounding thought.

We weren't alike anymore. I was practically an immortal, I could crush cities if I wanted to. They would die, and I would be unchanged, still young and powerful.

Strangely, it lit a fire in me. That was the difference between me and Aleksander. He took that fact of life and let it harden him, make him indifferent to the ordinary. My love for them would be the key to my victory.

I allowed the lamps burn out as I fell into a calmer sleep than I had experienced in months.

***

I sat on one of the many balconies, slowly picking at a dry biscuit as I shifted through stacks of documents. Who knew that war could be so tedious. Meals and sleep had grown into annoying chores, I constantly strategized and scribbled nonsense on paper like a deranged madman. It was relatively calming, keeping myself busy with work, so I wouldn't have to entertain my doubts and desires.

"All work, no play?"

Nikolai looked especially handsome in his olive green uniform as he sat down in the seat opposite me. "Something like that," I rested my chin on my hand, looking at him from under my dark lashes. "I'll schedule in some more play for you," he grinned. I glanced out towards the breathtaking view of mountains. "Does it involve jumping off the nearest cliff?" He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I shower you in gifts and jewelry and you still would like to fall to your death? I must be worse than I thought. Is it the cologne?" he mused, tapping a finger to his lips in mock thought. "You smell fine, and the dresses were great, I'm just feeling.. overwhelmed," I sighed, my fingers ghosting over the fetter. "Well, it's only fair that I add some stress to your precarious state of being. I have a gift for you." I froze as he pulled something from his pocket, placing it on the table. I stared at it.

A ring.

A gorgeous ring, yes. It was an unfathomably large emerald placed atop a golden band inset with sparkling diamonds. I reached out, my fingers ghosting over the gem. "Understatement is overrated," I breathed, my voice shaking even with the soft decibel of my words. "I love it when you quote me," he laughed lightly, though there was a sureness about him that was missing. "Where did you even get this, it's huge," I stared at it a second longer before looking up at him. He ran a hand through his sandy brown locks. "My mother gave it to me, though it was originally supposed to be for a pretty young thing in Fjerda." He snickered when I shot him a look. "Some advice for you, don't talk about other women when you're proposing to someone," I raised an eyebrow pointedly. The air grew thick with a silent tension as we both stared down at the ring. It sparkled in the light. "Nikolai," I hesitated, feeling my mouth go dry. "If you need time, I will give it to you Alina," he murmured, "I know it's been hard for you. You deserve some time to heal."

He had no idea.

He stood up, brushing invisible dust from his clothes. "As long as you don't throw yourself off the cliff, I'll be fine with whatever you do, Alina," he promised, a hint of humor in his eyes. I nodded, swallowing hard. His footsteps faded as he left the balcony. After a beat, I snatched to ring from the table, my footsteps taking me to a safe, secluded place so that I could talk to the only person on my mind right now.

***

I hadn't come to Aleksander in so long that it felt like stretching a dormant muscle, a strange ache enveloping me at the feeling. My fingers twitched at my sides. He was sitting on the edge of a table, his shirt crumpled into a ball at his knee, his arms raised above his head as the vague shape of a Corporalnik Healer came in and out of focus, tending to a bloody gash in his side. I thought at first we might be in the infirmary at the Little Palace, but the space was too dark and blurry for me to tell. He looked unusually unkempt, his dark curls messy and the ghost of dark circles underneath his eyes. His jaw tensed as the Corporalnik finished her work. When the skin had knitted together, he dismissed her with a lazy wave. She hovered briefly, then slipped away, fading into the blur of his surroundings.

"Are you okay," I asked softly. Foolish Alina.

"What do you want, Alina," he looked up at me, a strange weariness to his gaze. I'd never seen him look so exhausted. I could feel the weight of the ring in my hand back in my real body, a reminder of why I was here. I scrambled for words, a sense of raw panic in my throat as I realized I had no fucking clue why I had come. "Nikolai proposed to me!" I blurted, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them. He had been testing the flesh where the wound had been with his fingertips, now he sat frozen. Silently, I cursed myself. "And what did you say? You can't tell me you were surprised he tried to claim you." His words were quiet, controlled, careful. Anyone that wasn't connected to him would have labeled it as indifference. But I could feel the echo of the chaos of emotions through the tether that he had somehow managed to subdue externally. "He's not claiming me," I softly spoke. He finally stood up, approaching me and meeting my gaze with dark eyes. "Any mere otkazat'sya or Grisha is unworthy of you, Alina," he smoothly articulated, his words clipped and sharp. My hands clenched. "And you are?" I challenged, arching a brow. He tilted his head slightly, perhaps an affirmation, though he remained silent. I wanted to reach out, to sate the desire of pressing my skin to his, but my hands remained limply at my sides, unable to move. "What did you say," he quietly asked again. I let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't say anything."

His silver eyes were piercing as he analyzed my response. I could almost see him turning the phrase over in his mind, inspecting it from every angle. "Do you love him." The phrase was uttered even softer than the previous one. "Not in that way, but I could learn to with time," I worded cautiously. The words were dangerously close to slipping out.

_I love you, Aleksander Morozova._

Something unreadable flickered in his gaze. "So why are you here with me, Alina," he darkly husked, stepping forward and closing the distance between us to mere centimeters. The urge to lay my head against his chest was startling. I was so tired of it all, of a war that my heart was against. "I don't know, Aleksander," I sighed, pressing two fingers to my temple. My head was spinning. I didn't know what I expected from him, I didn't know what I had wanted from him either. It's not like he was going to suddenly admit his undying love for me. "It's because you know the truth of our reality," he regarded me in a detached manner that almost seemed forced, "You told me yourself that you didn't want to be alone, Alina." I paused. "You told me the same thing, Aleksander." He tensed, presumably at a reminder of a time when he was vulnerable. For a second his facade cracked, a sliver of longing flashing in his eyes, so filled with pain that I took a step back. His hand snaked out and seized my wrist, pulling me back into him. The room came into focus. "And then you left me." His voice was full of accusation that was so unlike him. I met his stare. "Yes." My pulse quickened as he raised a hand, reaching to touch the side of my face. I caught it before he could. "Let me," he whispered, his other hand moving to press at the small of my back. I needed to say no, but I couldn't seem to deny him. "It isn't real, Alina, just let me," he murmured.

And then his lips were on mine, soft and intoxicating and the very definition of perfection. The heat of the kiss was unbearable, I hadn't realized how much I had been starving for his touch until he was consuming me with it. He took my bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down softly before letting go. "Come back to me." I caught the whispered snatch of words, my fingers tightening around the front of his kefta. The temptation to tell him my feelings was almost overwhelming. What difference would it make anyways? His mouth steadily grew harder, more insistent, laced with anger and malice and accusation. I met the rush with my own quiet fury, the kiss turning into something wild and competitive, neither of us wanting to lose the meaningless battle. My fingernails dug into his skin as his teeth moved to graze my earlobe before continuing to the slope of my neck.

"You will have no one left but me, no choice but me," he hissed against my skin. I bit down the moan that clawed at my lips. "And even then you'll still always be second to Mal," I sneered. A stinging bite on my neck was his response. He pushed me roughly against the wall, so hard that if I was real it would have surely left bruises. I gasped as his fingers dug into the back of my thighs as he swiftly lifted my hips upward so I was pressed against him. The moan that finally broke free was obscene. He hissed in satisfaction, a reminder that however much I wanted to hate him, he could manipulate my body in ways I couldn't possibly resist. "I will rid you of the taste of that otkazat'sya until you know no name but mine. He is nothing but dust now." He had calmed now in the wake of his small triumph, the mask of control returning to encapsulate his words and movement. His lips lingered on mine before he pulled away, the heat making my skin flush. I wanted to hit him so badly, to hurt him for being so cruel when he had my heart. "You can't take everything by force," I breathed. He drew back at the words. I worked to even my labored breaths as he studied me, his fingers digging into my back. "We will see, Alina."

The connection severed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing :)


	25. she will be mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been a minute. I will warn you I am super super busy for the next two weeks, so updates will be a lot slower until around July 10th, then I'll be posting more frequently again. get ready for a RIDE, I could barely even write this tbh. 
> 
> be prepared, but enjoy <3

Aleksander's P.O.V

My mother. The only person I could possibly let myself be this vulnerable with, I had gone to like a weak little boy, with the exception of the flask of kvas that I was drowning myself in. She hadn't spoken yet, we sat in silence as I stared into the hot flames of the fireplace that caused me to discard my kefta long ago. The alcohol burned down my throat as I took another long drink. As if it would dull the pain that I had long ago thought I had lost the capacity to feel. It was as if the presence of Alina had erased it all, centuries of building my walls only to have them crumble at her feet.

"How did I get so weak, mother," I rasped, finally finding the strength to look up at her. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, disapproval telling in her stiff demeanor. "Weakness is defined by the individual," she responded evenly, a hint of irritation present. "Anything I do is a sign of weakness to you." Another drink. My control was dissolving into a haze of kvas. "I assume this is not due to a sudden reappearance of a conscience at your actions. The girl, she left you." Dull anger sparked in the depths of my chest. A useless emotion. I swatted at it in disgust. "She will be mine." My voice was even, icily calm. It was useless, putting up the facade of indifference with my mother. She looked at me as if she could see into the very depths of my soul. Another drink. Shadows brewed at my fingertips, yearning to be unleashed. I swallowed them with a clenched fist, though the darkness in the corners of the hut continued to whisper in unrest.

Finally, she laughed, a gravelly, spiteful noise. "Your obsession with control will be your undoing, Aleksander," she spoke bitterly, leaning back in her chair, "There is never an end to power. It is infinite, as is your greed. You will destroy the world before you realize to stop." She paused, her tone softening from the hard steel it had been before, "Or, you can let it go, my son." My grip tightened around my flask at the uncharacteristically pitying edge to her words. "I am saving our kind from being burned, from being tortured and killed. With me and Alina on the throne, they won't have to die anymore," I growled. I was rebuilding the world, and I needed Alina to do it. And I would have Alina, even if I had to strip away everything that she loved. She didn't bear the weight of centuries yet, but she would come to understand my decisions in time. She would stop hating me in time.

Time.

We had plenty of it, but I was achingly impatient. I had waited more than enough time.

***

Alina's P.O.V

"The Soldat Sol has mobilized, they will arrive in under a week," Nikolai pleasantly spoke, sipping at a flask of kvas. "This early Nikolai? Really?" I wrinkled my nose, the smell of alcohol pungent and acrid in the crisp mountain air. We were on the eastern balcony overlooking the mass of students learning under the older Grisha, along with otkazat'sya children sparring at the instruction of soldiers. The many people milled around like ants underneath us. "Want some?" he offered with a grin. I snatched the flask, setting it down on the table as far away from his outstretched hand as I could. "I don't trust the Apparat, how do we know he's not working with the Darkling?" I frowned. 

It felt strangely unfamiliar to call Aleksander by his title again. 

"We have but a few thousand in numbers without him, Alina, we don't have another choice," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Of course, he was right. There was just something about the Apparat that distinctly bothered me, even if I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "You're right," I conceded with an irritated sigh, trailing my fingers over a map of the mountains. "As always," he smirked. Though I still hadn't responded to his proposal, his devilish charm hadn't wavered, in fact, he had grown even bolder with his flattery and remarks. I looked away first as a young serf girl hesitantly pushed open the balcony doors, holding the two steaming cups of tea I had requested earlier. "Thank you," I graciously smiled as she set them down, bowing before quickly scurrying away.

"Am I that intimidating?" I raised a brow skeptically, bringing the cup to my lips and blowing at the steam that curled off the surface of the liquid. "Well, I don't think the glowing helps," he chuckled softly, reaching for his own cup and quickly downing its contents. The glow that shimmered with warmth on the surface of my skin had become too much of a nuisance to constantly work to subdue, instead I had embraced it in the past few weeks. I was the Sun Summoner after all, it was about time I played the part. I let my fingers splay out over the paper in front of me, moving my cup to the side as we fell back into thoughtful silence. I couldn't seem to focus, my mind occupied with Aleksander's parting words to me the last time we had spoken to each other.

 _We will see, Alina_.

My index finger hooked through the fetter, I was restless for a reason I couldn't quite identify, but it was there, curled in my pit of my stomach like a snake waiting to strike. "Hey," Nikolai softly spoke, snapping me back to reality. He had moved closer, worry creasing the skin between his brows as he placed his hand lightly on my knee. "I'm fine," I breathed, knowing my words were less than convincing. His head tilted slightly, his eyes deep in thought. "If it's about the ring, the proposal," he softly spoke, "Yes, it's an alliance, but I think we could have more than that in time. We could be very happy together." I met his gaze, surprised at the level of sincerity. "No jokes? No innuendos? I don't even know who you are." The look faded into a grin. "Maybe I'm maturing." I couldn't help but laugh with an accompanied shake of my head. His eyes had softened again, his free hand lifting cautiously to lightly cup my cheek. I stiffened. His palm was warm against my skin, making me impulsively lean into his touch. And then his lips were on mine, the gentlest of brushes, a promise of a kiss more than an actual one.

It made me want to love him.

"When you're ready, Alina," he pulled away, lightly squeezing my leg. I let my lips curl into a smile of affirmation. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words never had the chance to come out.

A shadowed blur sunk its talons into his back, tearing him away from my arms.

***

I screamed.

As if they had materialized out of thin air, nichevo'ya were everywhere, a storm of screaming shadows massing around the Spinning Wheel, diving and attacking with deadly accuracy. Claws sunk into my back from behind, razor sharp points easily grabbing hold of me and pulling me high into the air. My feet kicked wildly as I struggled, a cry of defiance leaving my lips as I sliced blindly with the Cut. It's piercing grip vanished into smoke, and then I was falling. My body crashed to the ground. Light flashed across my vision, accompanied by a searing pain on the back of my head as I lay crumpled on the cold stone. My shoulders throbbed with blood where the claws had torn into my skin. I could hardly breathe.

"Alina!"

The sound of my name brought me struggling to my knees. I looked up, disoriented by the crowds of screaming people running for the ships, to see Sasha clutching at my arm in worry. "Go with the others, Sasha," I trembled, my eyes frantically searching the skies for the man that would surely be here soon if he wasn't already. She held my hand tightly, a mixture of confusion and terror in her hazel eyes. "Go, little one," I urged, my vision coming into focus as I recognized Tolya, Tamar, and Genya running towards me. A nichevo'ya was diving for them, I sent a knife of icy light through its body. "Get them all out of here, evacuate to the ships," I grasped Genya's hand. She gripped me just as hard, her mouth falling open in speechless horror as her eyes travelled upward, settling on something behind me.

"Shall I spare him, Alina?"

My whole body froze in place at the cruel edge to Aleksander's unmistakable voice. "Leave me, now," I quietly ordered. "We're not abandoning you again," Tamar argued, her grip clutched tightly around her axes, her eyes filled with a swirling mixture of pain and guilt. "I can protect myself. You need to protect those who can't," I murmured, pushing Sasha into Tolya's arms. She reached out for me, struggling. "No, I don't want you to leave," Sasha whimpered. Slowly, I turned away, my heart twisting in my chest as she called for me. My eyes casted up to where Aleksander was aloft. His creatures swarmed around him, a mass of dark clouds that moved as if it were a living being. The sight of him almost took my breath away, he was as achingly beautiful as ever, yet colder than I'd ever seen him. His eyes were yawning chasms of blank darkness as he met my gaze. My attention shifted almost immediately. Nikolai was hanging from the talons of a winged nichevo'ya, his uniform stained with the dark red color of blood. His eyes were wide, unblinking with shock as he dangled limply. "Go, now, Tamar!" I snapped, relieved when I heard the sound of their footsteps darting away, fading into the sounds of the battle. "Let him go, Aleksander," I finally spoke, "It's me that you want, right?" There was a slight curl to his lip, shadows dancing at his fingertips. "What I _want_ , is to tear this sobachka into pieces," he calmly replied, though the tension in his jaw was clear. "Why, he is no threat to you." Light hummed in my palms, threading through my fingertips.

Then I felt it.

A split second of vulnerability that vibrated along the tether, shaking me to my core. My lips parted in disbelief. "You saw me kiss him, didn't you," I incredulously breathed, "You were going to spare him and now you're going to kill him right in front of me because you're _jealous_?" He didn't speak. The silence between us was immediately filled with screams and the sound of glass shattering. "I don't want him harmed, Aleksander," I felt my breaths grow labored with panic as I watched Nikolai struggle limply, blood continuing to spread and stain through his shirt and making him pale even further. "And what if I do decide to _harm_ him," he challenged, his fingers twitching at his side. The nichevo'ya tightened its hold on Nikolai, making him cry out in pain. "Please." It was an exhale, the only softly pathetic response I could muster.

"Alina, Alina!"

My stomach dropped with horror. Aleksander's gaze softened a fraction as his attention was diverted by the sound of Sasha's voice. I turned to see her running back towards me with outstretched arms, followed close behind by Tolya, Tamar, Genya, and even Zoya chasing after her. It might have been comical, if only excluding the context. "What is he doing to Prince Niki?" she was looking up, her hand now absently grasping at my kefta. Her fear seemed to have dissipated somewhat, she had only known Aleksander as the king, after all. "Hello, little one," Aleksander greeted her pleasantly, as if he wasn't surrounded by a mass of monsters, his tone almost gentle. "Don't look, Sasha." I folded her into my arms, hiding her face from Nikolai's dangling body. My glare towards Aleksander was piercing, my jaw clenched with anger, "Let him go, you coward." 

"I never understood your fondness for useless otkazat'sya," he finally spoke distastefully. At the flick of his fingertips, the nichevo'ya released Nikolai, his body falling and hitting the stone in front of me with a sickening thud. A sob released from my throat, my legs buckling as I sunk to my knees next to his crumpled form. "Well, that was unexpected," Nikolai hoarsely wheezed, blood beginning to stain his mouth crimson as he struggled to look up at me. "You're okay," I trembled, pushing back the hair from his forehead feverish with sweat. He coughed violently, blood dribbling down his lips as he gripped tightly at my hand. "I will have your little resistance in a matter of minutes, and then I will deal with the sobachka for them all to see," Aleksander smiled, a cold expression that was so unlike the smile I had come to love. It was sickening.

"You will not have them."

I stood up, my hands clenching at my sides. He regarded me, his head tilting slightly. "Alina, please run, we have Nikolai we can escape now," Genya whispered, barely restraining the panic in her voice. I could feel Sasha clutching at my leg. "Help Nikolai," I ordered, my words hard as steel. I slammed my hand down, light exploding from my palms in a wave of scalding light. Aleksander lifted a hand, making a swiping motion that deflected it with a haze of shadows. I sent the Cut slashing through his cloud of monstrous creatures, causing a deafening crack to echo throughout the Spinning Wheel. The darkness dissipated slightly, wavering for a second before quickly being replaced with more shadows.

"Your army will be captured in moments, you think this fatuous skirmish will help them?"

The light that burned at my fingertips slowly died. He was right, what could I possibly do to save them when nichevo'ya were making quick work of destroying everything? A memory of a conversation sparked in my mind.

 _As long as you don't throw yourself off the cliff_.

My hands uncurled, falling limp to my sides. "Go, Genya," I murmured. I walked towards the ledge of the balcony, purposefully, calmly, internally screaming at Genya to get them all out of while they still had time. "What are you doing, Alina," Aleksander tightly asked, his eyes following my path with scalding intensity. "Making you make a choice," I responded evenly. A peacefulness had taken hold of my body as I stepped up onto the ledge of the wall. An icy wind whipped through my hair, sending a chill down my spine.

"Stop." There was an unmistakable tremor to his voice, but I refused to look at him.

My body swayed in the breeze, adrenaline zipped through my veins as I stared down at the drop. I looked back at Genya, meeting her horrified gaze. "Run," I whispered. Then I let my body tip over the side.

And I was falling.

I could hear the screams, though the source I couldn't identify as wind shrieked in my ears, the jagged rocks below rushing upward to meet me much faster than I had anticipated.

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing! :)


	26. if I had let you die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG TIME NO SEE GUYS ITS BEEN WAYYY TOO LONG OMG
> 
> I am truly, truly sorry for the wait as I said previously, I have been insanely busy the past few weeks and I haven't had internet/service and it was just a big fat mess. but im back now. :) 
> 
> though this isn't a super eventful chapter, I really like the continuation of the development in character dynamics and don't worry the drama will pick back up in the next chapter. 
> 
> enjoy <3
> 
> p.s. I also just wrote a fat smut chapter that will come later on and man are you guys gonna go crazy hehehe

My whole body throbbed with near debilitating agony.

My eyelids felt glued shut, my body impossibly heavy. A low whimper escaped my lips as suddenly I became aware of every small movement, every jostle of what I quickly decided to assume was a moving coach. My fingers clenched. Slowly, I let my eyes peel open, my gaze gradually coming into focus on the ceiling of the black coach, an immediate tell that I was no longer in the hands of Nikolai and West Ravka. I shifted, looking over the space. I was alone. The room was blissfully dark, as my eyes felt like I had hot sand thrown in them, burning even at the slight change from the dark of my eyelids to the dark of the coach. My tongue trailed over my lower lip, which was cracked and painfully chapped. An involuntary shudder passed through my body as memories came rushing back, painfully flashing through my vision. What had happened? Was Nikolai okay? Did they all escape? "Hello," I hoarsely rasped, the words grating viciously against my raw throat. 

Silence.

Slowly, I propped my body up onto my elbows, a grimace pulling at my lips at even the small movement. My limbs felt sluggish, weighed down, I had to use all of my strength to shift myself into a sitting position. My gaze came to a rest on the mirror in front of me, my reflection now visible. A horrified exhale left my lips.

My hair was bright white.

The door of the coach slammed open, revealing a scowling Ivan. I couldn't subdue the panic in my voice, my pulse thrumming increasingly fast in my ears. "What happened to me? Where are we? What's going on, Ivan?" I gasped, my voice trembling as I scrambled to sit up. He ignored me, harshly closing the door behind him. "Ivan," I insisted. He turned, curling his hand into a fist and making me sink back against the cushions as the breath left my lungs. My chest constricted, blackness immediately swirling across my vision. "Ivan, please," I pleaded, my pride crumbling in the presence my fear. He smirked as his fist tightened, invisible fingers curling around my throat and suffocating me.

Darkness closed in, swallowing me whole.

***

When I awoke again, light was filtering from behind the thick black curtains, weak, but visible. A dizzying headache was throbbing at my temples, thrumming against my skull relentlessly. This time I shot up from my seat, exponentially more energized as my fear sent adrenaline zipping through my veins. I stood up, cautiously approaching the walled mirror. My skin still glowed with a hint of light, my dark circles were faded, I appeared just as I had been once I had sealed the last amplifier around my wrist. The one obvious difference was my hair that was as stark white as the sheen of freshly fallen snow, flowing down my pale skin in luminous waves.

It was frightening that it felt right. Like how a Sun Summoner should look.

My hand lifted to comb through a silvery wave. The coach door opened, making me involuntarily tense in brief surprise, falling back against the seat as Aleksander slipped into the carriage, sitting down on the cushions opposite me without so much as a word. His stare was blank as I reproachfully examined him. He looked infuriatingly unaffected, well rested, calm. And here I was, looking like a near ghost with a splitting headache.

"What happened to me Aleksander." My words were clipped, tight. He shifted, crossing his legs as he leaned back. "You threw yourself off of a cliff." I nodded, more of a jerk of my head than anything, my anger barely contained. "And you tried to kill everyone I love. _Again_." His jaw clenched, the shadows in the coach shifting and snapping. "And you tried to fucking kill yourself, Alina." I had never heard him curse before, and hearing the expletive now sent a chill down my spine. His eyes were alight with cold fire. I had never seen him like this, in a state of barely restrained anger and fear. Fear that he had almost lost me, anger that he had no control over it. "You deserved it, Aleksander," I seethed through bared teeth, my hands grasping at the cushions to keep myself from lunging at him, "Now tell me, what the hell happened to me." He paused, his expression shuttering and his demeanor shifting to almost passive in a split second.

"You jumped off. I wasn't going to catch you in time, but the nichevo'ya did," he blankly spoke, "They broke your fall, but I would guess the excessive contact with the merzost caused the current state of your hair." My hand reflexively moved to touch it. Would it ever change back? I swallowed down the question. It was selfish for me to be worried about something as trivial as the color of my hair in the middle of a war. "And what of my army that you planned on decimating?" I bitterly questioned. His arm lifted so he could rest an elegant finger against his lips. "Escaped due to your little stunt." I didn't hold back my smile of satisfaction. "Good." He didn't take my bait, staying motionless as his eyes calmly roved across my body. I felt naked under his piercing gaze, instinctually shrinking in on myself.

"What could you have possibly gained by killing yourself, Alina?" he icily asked, "To spite me? Because it would have done your friends little good if I had let you die." The question hit me like a blow to the chest, instantaneously taking my breath away.

 _If I had let you die_. Somehow, the possibility had never occurred to me.

"I knew you would catch me," I mumbled, flushing despite myself. It was a bold assumption, but one I knew was true. Even he wouldn't want to spend eternity alone, despite the possibility of having all the power he could possibly want as a result. A beat of silence. "I would never let you die, Alina," he affirmed quietly, a tinge of regret edging his voice, presumably at the harshness of his previous words. "And you know that I would die before letting you kill my friends." The statement had a slight upward intonation, as if I was asking him to agree, to concede that he wouldn't kill my friends because that would mean killing me too. "I suppose we'll have to come to an agreement," he dryly replied, insinuating that it would not be a compromise on his end. We stared at each other for what could have been minutes or hours. Finally, he stood up, adjusting the clasp of his kefta. "Next time you think of the sobachka, I remind you that he will die, the same as the tracker. I do hope you will stop pining after insignificant otkazat'sya before the next century ends."

There was a hurt to his words that he, strangely, didn't bother to hide. I remained silent as he exited the coach, slamming the door a slight degree too harshly. I cursed myself. Somehow I was the one that felt guilty. Maybe it was because I loved him so much that it physically hurt. Or maybe it was because I knew I was the only person he had been remotely vulnerable with in probably his whole lifetime.

A heart of darkness, that, apparently, could be wounded just the same as any other.

***

I was nearly ready to slice the coach open.

I had been locked for days in the increasingly cramped space. Maybe it was Aleksander's way of punishing me? I almost snorted at the thought. With no one to talk to, my thoughts were a constant stream of chaotic worry. Was Nikolai okay, were all of the others okay, who had been killed, where they had retreated to, were they mobilizing forces to come fight. It was driving me insane, not knowing so much as a single scrap of information. Maybe that was how he wanted it. I had been plucking at the tether continuously to both curb my boredom and somewhat distract myself, satisfied that with each passing hour I could feel him growing more and more irritable with me.

I stared at myself in the mirror, my knees tucked into my chest, my gaze transfixed on my hair. I had woven the long, glossy waves into a loose braid, seeing as it was increasingly warm and stuffy in the relatively small space. Me and Aleksander, down to the very last ironic strand of hair, were truly the definition of opposites now. His skin was pale and cold, mine glowed with warmth. His hair was jet black, mine as white as the snow. He was dark, I was light.

We were made for each other.

He had always asserted that we were meant to be each other's balance. Our balance was a precarious thing, a constant back and forth of grabs for power and manipulation, but perhaps it really was the answer. My chest constricted as my mind strayed to Mal. What life could I have had with him? Or even Nikolai? Simple and easy was something I would never have with Aleksander, despite my wishes. And I did wish that life could be picture perfect with Aleksander, so much so that it physically pained me. A sigh emptied my lungs. I plucked at the tether again, only to have my invisible hand swatted at this time. My eyes rolled of their own accord. I tried again, ready to mentally slap him back. I startled, a gasp escaping my lips as it was as if he had grabbed me, pulling me through the connection forcefully. I barely saw a flash of our surroundings before he pulled me into his side. All I could see were the vague shapes of guards and horses, and then his eyes. "Stop Alina, I will come see you when I have the time," he hissed softly in my ear. I looked up at him in shock, his silver eyes dark as slate. And then he released me, and I was back in my body, my breaths heaving my lungs.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

It was dark when I finally came back to the coach. In truth, I had been avoiding Alina. I preferred not to have to see her look at me like she couldn't have possibly despised anyone more. It hurt in a dagger stabbing through my chest type of way, as if she had lodged the blade between my ribs herself. The coach was silent as I eased the door open, my eyes quickly adjusting to the lack of light. She was sprawled across the cushions, her white hair loose and escaping from the long braid she had twisted it into. Her lips were parted slightly, her eyes peacefully closed as her chest rose and fell softly. The pain in my chest increased, thrumming throughout my entire body in rhythm with my pulse. "Alina," I whispered, closing the door behind me quietly. She didn't reply save for a soft moan. "Solnishka." I couldn't help but crouch down in front of her, smoothing back the wisps of hair that had fallen into her face. Her eyes cracked open a sliver, assessing me through her exhausted, lidded gaze. "Sleep with me, Aleks," she breathed, the words like a sigh as she sank back into sleep, her eyes closing.

 _Wanting makes us weak_.

It was sinful that I enjoyed the feeling, I craved her and the vulnerability I let myself feel when she was in my presence. I shifted onto the cushions, sliding behind her petite body and reluctantly letting myself relax against her. She hummed softly, her lips curving into the ghost of a smile. Her skin was soft, so soft under my hand as I trailed my fingers down her bare arm, my face coming to rest in the gentle curve of her neck. She smelled like a summer meadow, perfectly intoxicating. Gradually, I allowed my eyes to close, getting lost in the feeling of her, all soft edges and comfort. Her hand found my own, her legs tangling through mine as she wrapped herself around me. It ached how much I had missed the feeling of having her in my arms every single day. The absence of our frequent conversations late into the night, swathed in the comfort of shadows, had left me empty in a way I hadn't felt in centuries. It was a painful type of emptiness, of loneliness that had actually an answer to it now. She was the answer. "Stay with me, don't leave," she whispered, her breath flush against my neck. "Okay, Alina." I couldn't seem to say no to her, particularly when she held me like I was the only thing she had left in the world.

_Aleksander hadn't planned on falling asleep, but within minutes, he was unconscious._

_And furthermore, when had things ever gone as he planned when his Sun Summoner was involved?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)
> 
> or you can comment how im a nasty bitch for making you guys wait for that long for this shitty ass chapter, whatever floats your boat


	27. get a hold of yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me preface this: I know, I KNOW this chapter is on the shorter side, but this is how I wanted to break it up and since I deleted a scene, it ended up being shorter than I wanted it to be. I'll get the longer chapter up sooner than usual, I'm already working on editing it. 
> 
> I've said this before, but know that all of your continued support and comments really make my day. thank you so much for being the ones that inspire me to keep writing and editing to give you the best content/story that I can! :)
> 
> enjoy <3

I let out a sigh of relief as an oprichniki slid open the coach doors, allowing me out of the cramped space for the first time in the several days we had been traveling. "Your prince was sighted heading west," Ivan was leaned back against the side of the coach with a look of smug satisfaction as he watched me. "Great, now go bother someone else," I snapped, turning so my back was to him as I stretched my legs. Os Alta was a hazy shape on the dim morning horizon, we would be back at the palace within another day or two. My gaze was drawn to Aleksander standing amidst the restless stallions, quietly conversing with several oprichniki. I could still feel his arms around me, his face nuzzled into my neck as we slept. Ivan followed my stare. "I wonder how the Darkling will decide to kill your sobachka, when the inevitable time comes," he smirked, an ugly twist of his lips that I so very badly wanted to slap off of his face. "No offense, but shut up," I scowled. I was letting him get to me, but I was too tired and irritable to care. He snickered. "How's your neck?" I bristled, a spiteful taunt that referenced the scar from the burn I had given him. His hand reflexively moved to the skin that was still red, having not yet healed. His mouth curled into a sneer.

"How's your tracker? Still ripped apart on the Fold?"

Something in me snapped.

My hand burned with white hot heat, closing around his neck with a mind of its own. "What the fuck did you just say?" I snarled, my anger blinding with its intensity. He sunk to his knees, clawing at my hand in pain. He was already struggling to breathe, pure disgust in his eyes as he wheezed, "Dead otkazat'sya scum." I let go. And then I had thrown myself on top of him, hitting him over and over, a scream ripping at my throat. "Fuck you, I'm going to fucking kill you, you disgusting, horrible-"

Strong hands closed around my arms, yanking me off of Ivan with such force I stumbled, almost falling. My knuckles had quickly begun to throb, my hands still blinding with light as I struggled futilely. "Get a hold of yourself, Alina," Aleksander hissed in my ear, his fingertips digging into my skin. Ivan was holding his nose, blood staining his lips as he snarled at me. Guards and Grisha alike were staring at us in badly concealed interest. I ripped my arms out of Aleksander's grip, the underbrush withering and burning under my feet as I stalked away. I could feel the intense heat crackling across my skin, I must have looked like I was nearly on fire.

"Alina, stop."

I wanted to scream at the calmness of his voice. My feet halted despite my anger, the grass under my feet immediately starting to leave dark wisps of smoke that curled up around me. "I want him gone, Aleksander," I bit out. The blind rage was starting to fade now, debilitating pain it's immediate replacement. Yes, I loved Aleksander, but I would always love Mal first. "You think I'll dispose of my second in command because he insulted your tracker?" he arched a brow. My fingernails sliced into my palms as my fists tightened. "I'm your second in command." He studied me, his gaze lingering on my feet. A leaf was burning to ash with a lick of flaming embers.  "You're my equal, Alina, not my second in command. Ivan will be dead within the century, along with everyone else you know. His words are as insignificant as his life." It was almost jarring, hearing him talk so nonchalantly about the death of one of his closest men. My jaw clenched. "Let me ask you something, Aleksander," I hissed, "If I wasn't the Sun Summoner, would I also be another insignificant speck to you?"

His silver eyes glinted in the light, silence settling between us. The bundle of anger in my chest became the dull edge of a knife. "Luckily, I am the Sun Summoner," I laughed bitterly, "And I want that disgusting waste of space gone." He held my stare, and for once, there was the barest measure of uncertainty present. The acrid smell of burning started to fill the air. He reached out, gently grasping for my wrist. Even the barest of brushes of his skin against mine made my whole body crawl with heat. I pulled away. "I mean it Aleksander," I icily spoke, turning and making back for the carriage.

He had called me a mouse with a bite. Maybe, but more accurately just a mouse that refused to be pushed around anymore.

***

My arms remained stubbornly folded over my chest, my glare fixated on Aleksander as he moved through stacks of paperwork. His left hand tapped restlessly against the table as he signed papers upon papers of parchment. We had sat in tense silence since he had entered the carriage shortly after my outburst. "I hate you." It was childish, but I wanted to annoy him, to see his mask of calm disrupted. "Yes, Alina," he sighed, not even looking up. I had to resist the urge to stomp my foot, my body tensing with the effort of restraining myself. "I will always like Mal more than you," I goaded, anger rising in my throat when he exhaled in amusement. "I know, Alina." A low growl emitted from the depths of my chest. He flipped another paper over, adding it to the growing stack of completed documents. "I'm going to marry Nikolai, not you," I pressed frustratedly. He looked up at that, his head tilting slightly as he evaluated me.

"I never asked you to marry me."

My glare heated. "Fuck you," I hissed, snatching a pillow from next to me and throwing it at him. He caught it, calmly placing down next him before going back to his paperwork.

_Why on earth did I love this man?_

"Fight back, do _something_ ," I slammed my hands down. The sound of pen on paper paused, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Finally, he looked back up at me, now with a semblance of emotion in his gaze. "What would you like to hear, Alina?" he narrowed his eyes, "That I plan on ripping apart that disgusting, lowlife otkazat'sya prince for touching you? For touching what is mine?" I shot up from my seat, snapping, "I will never be yours." He stood up as well, looking down at me through slitted eyes with his own silent intensity. A beat of drawn out silence ensued. "I am tired, Alina," he shook his head, back to the deadly calm I was accustomed to. "Of me?" I crossed my arms in order to keep myself from hitting him. He exhaled, a long sigh of someone who had endured many centuries of frustration. "Of you lying to yourself."

I had stopped long ago, though I wouldn't dare to let him know that.

"Maybe you're the one that's lying to yourself, you psychotic bastard," I smiled bitterly. "About what, Alina, enlighten me," he rasped, just barely above a whisper. I hadn't realized how close we were, and the realization made my cheeks flush with heat. "You're a monster, you're controlling, you're selfish and arrogant and spiteful and cruel and just, the-the _worst_ ," I sputtered almost incoherently, the insults thrown at him in wild abandon. He sighed before shaking his head again, gracefully sitting back down without another word. "I have work to do, we can continue this invigorating discussion of my many shortcomings later," he toned, his words dripping with sarcasm. "How gracious of you, moi tsar." I could almost sense him rolling his eyes internally at my words. "By all means, bestow your wisdom upon me now, Sankta, if it cannot wait," he shot back. The air crackled with intensity. I jumped as the coach door suddenly slammed open, a Squaller on the other side, her breath coming in frantic gasps. "Moi tsar," she dipped her head in respect, her ice blue eyes flickering between us in panic. "Spit it out," Aleksander spoke venomously. 

"There's been an attack," she panted, "On the palace."

***

My legs ached as our horses finally galloped through the gates of Os Alta, exhausted from the full day of riding Aleksander had subjected us to in order to arrive back at the palace that much faster. My stallion stamped its feet restlessly as we slowed to a stop at the gates before quickly dismounting. It was eerily quiet. I followed close behind Aleksander as he strode through the grand courtyard, surveying the damage with an air of deathly calm. His banners were ripped to shreds, the once green meadows burnt and black. Besides that, no one seemed to be harmed, the crowds of Grisha and guards all gathered in front of the palace doors in unease. I vaguely recognized a council representative as he quickly approached us with a deep bow. "Who did this," Aleksander icily spoke. Shadows slithered around him intimidatingly, his eyes were dark with anger. "The Soldat Sol, their forces ambushed us last night," he hesitated, his eyes casting down. "Where are they now, Christov." He shifted nervously on his feet, his hands clasping together, "Gone, moi tsar. It seems they only attacked for a certain purpose." A feeling of dread was pooling in my stomach.

Something was wrong.

"What did they do," I breathed, unable to keep the trepidation from my words. "There were too many of them," he blurted frantically, his face paling, "She didn't fight them off, she let them kill her. There was nothing we could do." Every fiber of my being was like ice, frozen and chilled to the very bone. "Who," Aleksander took an intimidating step forward, looking as if he was death himself.

"The old woman, Baghra."

My stomach dropped to my feet. "No," I breathed, tears rushing to my eyes at the words. A hand pressed to my mouth to keep the sob from falling from my lips. They had killed Baghra? In cold blood? I looked to Aleksander, who had stilled.

It was utterly terrifying.

"I want every Fabrikator working to clean up the damage, I expect it to be finished by morning," he emotionlessly ordered before turning away. I hesitated. Should I follow? He didn't give me the chance to decide, he was through the doors of the palace and out of sight in the span of a blink. Christov was frozen for a moment before he let out a shaky exhale, almost as if he was shocked he was still breathing, turning and addressing the crowd of expectant Grisha. "You heard the Darkling, get this cleaned up, now!" he harshly snapped. I grabbed the sleeve of his kefta before he could move away, my fingers tightly gripping the fabric. "Where is she," I whispered, the lump in my throat making it almost painful to speak. His eyes flickered over me, a hint of remorse in his gaze. "They burned the body, moya tsaritsa."

I released him, my breaths shallow and tight as I nodded. Grisha milled around me as they quickly began to work on repairing the minor damage that had been done, a tense, somber feeling hanging heavy in the air. It felt like I couldn't move, anger and sorrow thick in my mouth. Had this been done on Nikolai's orders? He had known Baghra, and he had also known that I cared for her. But if he had guessed that she was Aleksander's mother, which was a likely possibility, he might have used the information to his advantage.

I felt sick.

War was war. And in this war, it seemed the line between good and evil had become a blurry, broken thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	28. why did you come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am an absolute ANGEL for this early update, I know stop it im blushing. but for real, the end of this chapter might be my most favorite piece of writing I have ever produced in my fucking life. I cried when I reread it, ngl. but like THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LEIGH BARDUGO FIGHT MEE. okay im done, please please please enjoy because this chapter holds a special place in my heart. 
> 
> so much love for you guys <3

I sat on the edge of the bed, my cheeks sallow and my eyes burning with exhaustion. I hadn't slept all night, instead I had waited for Aleksander to come back to his room, in hopes that I could talk to him.

He didn't ever show up.

Worry and guilt clawed at my insides. Because hadn't he killed countless people? Didn't he deserve this? Even if I loved him, I couldn't deny this could very well be the karmic retribution he had rightfully earned. Yet the wall I felt through the tether told me he was hurting in a deep, calamitous way, a way that no one could possibly come to understand. He had lost his mother, and though their relationship was tumultuous, she was most likely the only person he had, the only person he trusted for centuries upon centuries. A knock sounded on my door, making me spring to my feet, darting to it and throwing it open. My hope quickly deflated, it was an attendant. "The king has requested you to fulfill his position at the scheduled meetings," she squeaked, dipping her head nervously to avoid making eye contact with me. "Thank you," I sighed, my shoulders sagging. She quickly turned on her heels, out of sight within a few seconds. He was neglecting going to war meetings, sending me in his place. He was locked away, saints knows where, with nothing but his grief and his anger.

No good could possibly come from it.

I grabbed my silk kefta from the table, fastening it as I strode quickly down the hallway. The council would be waiting for us, and when they discovered Aleksander wouldn't be coming, there would be some disquiet no doubt. Anxiety made my fingertips flex with tension as I approached the door to the war room, my hand grasping the cool metal doorknob. I hesitated for a brief moment before pushing it open. The room quieted as I entered, the burning sensation of stares following me as I confidently walked to my seat at the head of the table. "Where is the Darkling," Ivan callously questioned. I ignored him. "What intelligence have you gathered on the attack, where are they now," I calmly spoke, leaning back in my throne. They all stared at me in silent uncertainty. I could almost see their train of thought.

Wasn't I a prisoner just yesterday? Hadn't I been fighting the Darkling? Did I actually have any authority?

"Don't make me wait," I snapped. A cacophony of voices immediately erupted around the table, all eager to give me an answer and capture my attention. I held a hand up, silencing them immediately. Now I knew how Aleksander felt, having total and utter command of a room without even having to say a word. "Ivan," I nodded, giving him permission to speak. "We sent out a party of Heartrenders on the Darkling's orders, they found and eliminated the targeted Soldat Sol up north," he glowered, refusing to look at me. My lips parted, I found I was at a loss for words. I didn't know how I felt. Was I supposed to feel happy that Baghra got avenged? Or guilty that Aleksander had executed innocent men that were just following orders because they believed in me, their Sankta? "What of Nikolai?" I softly asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. "We are under direct orders not to answer any questions regarding the bastard prince," he leered.

The room was silent with apprehension as my eyes narrowed. I calmed my anger, turning it into something cold and hard before allowing myself to speak. "Very well then, I will take that up with him myself," I toned, standing up and placing my hands on the wooden table. They all looked at me expectantly. "Dismissed." Though their reaction wasn't as instantaneous as when Aleksander gave the command, they still promptly followed my orders, collecting their papers and exiting. My eyes shut as the room fell silent in my isolation, my fingernails digging into the wood of the table. Hesitantly, I reached out across the tether. Nothing. No semblance of emotion or give in the wall that he had built back up so instantaneously in his grief. I wanted to scream. I wanted him to trust me to let me in, to allow himself to be fully vulnerable with me.

I knew it was wrong, but I still wanted it more than anything. I wanted him to want me by his side. There could be no light without darkness. 

***

"Let me in," I glared at the stoic oprichniki flanking Aleksander's office door, garnering no reaction from either of them. "I'm commanding you," I snapped, my hands curling into fists tight with indignation. Finally, one of the two focused his gaze on me. "With all due respect, moya tsaritsa, we answer to and take orders from the Darkling and no other. He has commanded to let no one in until he specifies otherwise, and he qualified no exceptions," the guard rumbled. Almost immediately, his gaze lifted back to straight ahead, as if I wasn't even there. "Can you at least tell me if he's okay," I sighed, realizing the words sounded foolish as soon as they left my lips. Of course he was okay, he was the Darkling, the king, the most powerful Grisha in the world. No individual in the world knew him as otherwise, with the exception of me and Baghra.

Baghra.

The thought of her left my eyes stinging with grief that I had been so desperately working to avoid until now. She had never been easy on me, but I had always hoped she thought of me as more than a nuisance. She had believed in me, the same as Aleskander. She had been the one to help me see myself for who I was, strong and powerful, not a weak little orphan girl. I turned before the two men could catch sight of my tears. Then I was walking, my feet striding quickly in a path I didn't even fully realize until my feet were suddenly sinking into dewy grass. And then I was standing on the weathered step of Baghra's hut, my vision blurry with tears. I swallowed hard before pushing the door open with a gentle creak. My eyes cast around the room. Nothing was out of place, not a speck of dust to be seen. It looked agonizingly normal, save for the fact that the fireplace was ashen, black and cold and frighteningly alien looking without the presence of a blazing hot fire. A sob escaped, throaty and raw as I sunk to my knees.

"I'm sorry, I could have stopped this, I could have stopped all of this," I whimpered, my own self loathing rushing to the surface in the face of another life that had been lost because of my own incompetence. How could I have let this happen? Novokribirsk, Mal, the Firebird, Baghra... Who was next? It seemed the more I tried to fix it all, the more destruction that ensued in my path, burning away everything into ashes. And yet I couldn't possibly give up now, or else all of it would have been for nothing. I pressed the heels of my palms against my swollen eyes, working to even out my erratic breaths. Somehow, I had to fix all of the madness. I had no idea how the hell I would manage it, but I wasn't going to allow anyone else to die.

Baghra would be the last, I would make sure of it.

***

It had been a week. A week without so much as a word from Aleksander. It seemed like he hadn't left the confines of his office the whole duration of the time, leaving me to take his place at all of his various obligations. In his absence, I had used my newfound control to my advantage, halting the aggressive mobilization he had ordered and instead putting our efforts into rebuilding some of the Ravkan villages that had suffered as collateral damage. He would be furious when he found out, but at least that would force him to talk to me. "Moya tsaritsa, we have received reports of Fjerdans trespassing into Ravkan territory up north," an Etheralki drew me from my thoughts as he addressed me directly. This was not news, it seemed they had severed their loose ties with Aleksander when they started to pillage the outskirts of our land. "Fortify the blockades on the border," I thoughtfully mused, resting my chin in my hand. My strategy for making decisions had been to do the exact opposite of what I thought Aleksander would do, choosing the least aggressive responses possible to their escalating provocations. They wanted war, and I refused to give it to them. They would be decimated by nichevo'ya and both countries would lose countless soldiers in the process.

I wasn't going to let anyone else die.

I hadn't realized I had zoned out until a hesitant hand grazed my shoulder. My eyes snapped to Christov, who was sitting to my left. "These were requested by the Darkling," he cleared his throat nervously, placing a thick envelope in front of me, assumedly filled with documents. I dipped my head, my teeth gnawing at my lower lip as I watched the various Grisha mill around the room, some already exiting the meeting with other places to be. "Ivan," I called, catching his attention before he could leave.

I could almost see his disgust as he approached me, bending forward slightly in a crude resemblance of a bow. "Has the Darkling communicated with you at all," I questioned softly, keeping my tone passive in an effort to keep the conversation from souring before I could get any information out of him. He regarded me with a measure of distaste. "No," he responded simply. I studied him, his shuttered expression making it impossible to read if he was telling the truth or not. "If he does, you will report to me, understand?" I canted my head coldly. His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides. I arched a brow, twirling a beam of light through my fingertips. "Yes, moya tsaritsa," he tightly affirmed. I waved him away, already lost back amidst my thoughts. If Aleksander wanted these damned papers, I was going to deliver them.

In person.

***

The claws of anticipation had a tight hold on my insides as I approached Aleksander's office door. The envelope was clenched in my hands, I had crumpled it slightly in my nervousness. Of course, the oprichniki were still there, the small bit of hope that I could slip past them evaporating in their presence. My lying skills were about to be tested. "Guards, help!" I forced myself to appear to be out of breath, frantically running up to the two men. "Moya tsaritsa," they chorused in concern, their eyes flickering to me in my exaggerated commotion. "There's someone in my chambers, a Heartrender, they tried to kill me," I panted, forcing myself to tremble. They exchanged a glance, indecision in their eyes. "Go, please, before they escape," I urged. Thankfully, I didn't have to prod any further, they took off towards Aleksander's quarters with guns at the ready. I stood frozen for a moment, shocked that my plan had actually worked. A nervous breath escaped me as I quietly pushed the office door open, stepping inside. It was dark, the only light coming from the fire that burned half heartedly in the fireplace. I knew he sensed my presence, making it all the more nerve wracking that he didn't say a word. My footsteps were silent as I approached. He was sitting on the floor, leaned back against the velvet chair. An arm was slung carelessly over his eyes. Empty bottles littered the rug around him, the room reeked of the bitter smell of alcohol. It was startling, to say the very least, to see him so unhinged.

"Aleksander."

He didn't move, save to bring a half empty bottle up to his lips, taking a long, deliberate drink. I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to do with myself. I opened my mouth to speak again, which he anticipated, cutting me off. "Leave me, Alina," he spoke, frighteningly emotionless. His arm hadn't moved from its place covering his eyes. "You can't lock yourself in here for forever," I scowled, throwing the envelope down on the chair adjacent to me. He remained silent. I had to fight the urge to scream with frustration. "This is not the right way to deal with this, Aleksander," I insisted, making him tense in response. Finally, he let the arm slung across his face drop to his lap. Our gazes met. His eyes were rimmed with red, his cheeks glistening with the ghost of dried tear stains. "Enlighten me then," he bitterly rasped with so much pain and anger and resentment I was left reeling.

 _Crying is a sign of weakness_.

He had told me so himself, and seeing him now, so undone in his grief, I could barely breathe with the intense desolation of it all. "Let me help," I softly pleaded, sinking to my knees in front of him on the soft carpet. He had broken eye contact, staring blankly into the hot flames. Another drink, so long that he emptied the rest of the contents in the bottle. The glass slid from his hand, dropping to the rug with an unceremonious thud. "And why should I." It was more of a statement than a question. I sighed, trying to formulate a reply. "Why would I ever trust you, when all you care about is that disgusting, dead otkazat'sya boy," he dully toned. My jaw clenched. "You're right," I snapped, "I'll just leave you to drown in your pitiful self loathing and kvas then, it was imbecilic to even try to reason with you." I moved to stand up, tensing as his hands shot out, seizing my wrists. He was looking at me now, a frightening intensity in his silver eyes. "Why did you come here, Alina." His fingers dug into my skin. "Because you have a country to run," I asserted. He shook his head, desperation suddenly taking hold of him. He pulled me closer, his breaths labored. "No, why did you come?" He gripped me tighter. "I told you," I scowled, my heart twisting in my chest.

"No, no, no," he shook his head, almost pleading, "Alina, you know why. It's because you love me, don't you?"

It felt like all of the air was sucked from my body.

"Admit it, Alina, just admit it," he insisted vehemently, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Aleksander," I hesitated. "Admit it!" he snapped, his grip slicing into my skin.

"Okay."

He stilled. "Say it," he softly spoke, almost dangerous in its quiet. My pulse was pounding in my chest, my breath shaky as I exhaled.

"I love you, Aleksander."

His eyes flickered with shock, as if he hadn't actually expected me to say the words aloud. I swallowed hard as he looked down, the smallest shudder passing through his body. "I mean it," I found his hands, holding onto him tightly. His grip moved to the small of my back, pulling me forward so I was sat between his legs. Before I could so much as take a breath he crushed his lips against mine, the kiss desperate and hungry and cataclysmic in its despair. His fingers dug into my hair, tangling through the white strands as he pulled me closer still. I tried not to cringe at the overwhelming taste of alcohol, his lips stained with the bitter liquid. My hands found his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly. Heat was humming across the surface of my skin, unbearably warm. I let him pull me closer, trying to slow the movement of his mouth against mine before I let myself be consumed by him.

This was not the right way to deal with this, despite the desire thrumming throughout my body that was begging me otherwise.

I braced my palm against his chest, breaking my lips away from his. He didn't hesitate, his mouth immediately finding my neck in replacement, devouring my skin with the same amount of pained desperation. I swallowed the moan that tugged at my lips, begging to be released. "Aleks," I softly spoke. He tensed against me. My hand found his as his mouth broke away from my skin, his head falling to rest against the curve of my neck. Something seemed to shift, a barrier softening, a sudden flood of his emotions cresting over me in a staggering wave. It took my breath away with its intensity, as if it were something that was alive, a terrible monstrous creature that had sunk its talons into my chest. I gasped, almost a sob as tears rushed to my eyes. It was crippling, excruciating, like nothing could ever possibly be okay again. "She's gone," he almost whimpered, his head still buried in my neck. I grasped his hand tightly, unable to form words in the face of his agonizing pain. "I'm sorry," he whispered against my skin, his voice cracking. It wasn't okay. None of it was okay. But I let him hold onto me, because I knew I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

_It was hours before either one of them fell asleep, though neither of them spoke another word in that time. Something had changed, a small shift in both of them with a string of words that had never been spoken to the man before. No one had ever loved the dark, at least, not until light had discovered him and saved him from the shadows._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing :)


	29. how can i make you forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple things: 
> 
> 1\. would you guys be interested if I wrote a modern AU for alarkling? lmk if you'd read it im considering rn  
> 2\. I have some bits and pieces of backstory in this and upcoming chapters. but here's my confession. I haven't read demon in the wood because I know I am too emotionally fragile but I do know what happens in it. if any of this random backstory is inaccurate (unrelated to the plot of the demon in the wood) then just go with it because I can't force myself to read it im TOO EMOTIONAL OKAY DONT JUDGE ME  
> 3\. I have another surprise waiting for you guys in the next chapter! its going through a lot of editing rn but hopefully it turns out not a piece of shit 
> 
> if you made it through all of that, kudos to you. I love and appreciate you all! 
> 
> enjoy <3
> 
> and p.s. I think its obvious but the italicized text = a dream. okay cool thanks

Third Person P.O.V

Darkness plagued the dreams of the man who claimed he commanded it at his fingertips. It seemed the shadows no longer obeyed his call, slithering into his normally dreamless nights and plaguing him with nightmares in the form of memories he had long ago thought he had locked away.

_"Mama, I want a puppy."_

_Aleksander was young, no older than nine by both looks and his true age. Big, doey silver eyes stared up at his mother, still innocent and vulnerable in their depths. Time hadn't hardened the boy just yet. "We will be getting no such animal," Baghra shook her head with irritation at his continued naivety. He would learn the ways of the world soon enough, but for the 800 year old Baghra, it seemed to be taking an eternity. His rosy lips pouted in response to her words, his arms folding over his chest as he stared into the weak fire blazing in their crumbling fireplace. Their run down home bared many signs of poverty, from the water damage eating away at the corners of the room to the single weathered cot and mere blanket piled on the ground next to it. Baghra had stopped allowing Aleksander to share the bed with her years ago, making him sleep on the floor clinging to nothing but that thin scrap of fabric for warmth. Finally, Aleksander spoke again. "I'm hungry," he softly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap. Baghra finally looked away from her sewing to analyze him. Though he had always sported a thin, tall frame, he was looking especially pale and skinny lately. Money had been increasingly tight since a villager had accused them of witchcraft, leading to less and less customers at her clothing store every day. "Go practice your summoning in the forest, take your mind off of it," she ordered, a touch more warmth to her tone than Aleksander was accustomed to. He sprung to his feet at the invitation, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. The boy never passed up the opportunity to play with the shadows, considering they were his only friends. He quickly grabbed his black, ripped coat, rushing to the door and opening it to reveal the peaceful night streets. "I love you, madraya," he called. As he had long become accustomed to, she didn't say the words back, ignoring the phrase entirely. His small, pale fingers curled around the doorframe, a sudden stroke of boldness overtaking the boy. "Why do you never say it back?" he turned, meeting her gaze. She paused in her sewing. Silence stretched out between the two._

_"Because love is for the weak, Aleksander."_

***

Alina's P.O.V

When I woke up, I could immediately sense Aleksander was still asleep, a situation I had yet to be able to take advantage of ever before. My limbs screamed in protest as I shifted positions, achingly stiff due to the curled up sitting position we had slept in against the side of the chair. I blinked the drowsiness from my eyes, my gaze scanning over a sleeping Aleksander. His black curls were messy, his rosy lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply, his dark lashes casting long shadows down his cheeks. There was a measure of peacefulness, of sincerity that his unconsciousness held, he couldn't possibly manipulate me while he was asleep. I reached out, my fingers ghosting over his jawline. He shifted, his hold tightening around me, almost suffocating in its strength.

He held me like I was the air he needed to breathe.

It was unsettling that I relished the vulnerability he had shown me last night, even if it was only due to his drunken grief. It had allowed me to finally admit my feelings to him out loud, after all, the words that had been plaguing me for weeks upon weeks finally freed from their cage. Though whether he actually remembered it or not still remained to be seen. I squirmed, trying to loosen out of Aleksander's grip, which had grown progressively tighter. "Aleksander," I whispered. A soft, raspy moan emitted from the depths of his throat, though he didn't stir. The sound sent a hot shiver down my spine. I exhaled softly, my eyes shutting for a brief moment. He would surely be the death of me. I placed a hand against his chest to steady myself, my lips brushing against his ear, "I love you, Aleksander Morozova."

His eyes snapped open.

I felt his lean muscles instantly tense against me as he regained consciousness, his painful grip loosening.

"Alina." His voice was uncharacteristically hoarse, his gaze not quite as calculating and sharp as normal, almost disoriented as he looked down at me in his arms. I allowed a beat of silence to fill the space between us. "Do you want to talk about it?" I arched a brow, meeting his stare. His eyes shut for a brief moment, the space between his brows creasing for a second before he shook his head. "Okay," I sighed. He reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine and bringing it to his lips. A warm ghost of a kiss grazed over my knuckles, causing warmth to spark across the surface of my skin. A soft sigh escaped my lips, I relaxed against the curve of his body. Silence settled over us as he ran his fingers through my hair, gently combing through the white tangled strands. "We have a country to run," I breathed after what could have possibly been hours, forcing myself to shift upward into an independent sitting position. As I pulled away, he studied me, that all too familiar analytical look in his eye that apparently hadn't deserted him for long.

"More accurately, I have some damage control to do after you single handedly destroyed the trajectory of my plans," he tilted his head slightly. So he had heard about my changes.

I worked to suppress my smile of satisfaction. "I call it fixing your overly aggressive, unnecessary power plays," I mused mildly, acutely aware of his hand resting across my bare thigh. "Hmm," he hummed, seemingly distracted now as his stare decreased in intensity. His fingertips began to trace patterns across the exposed skin of my leg, maddeningly distracting.

"Say it again." He didn't have to specify, we both knew exactly what he was talking about. "I love you," I spoke without hesitation. It felt like freedom. He pulled me towards him, his mouth grazing across my own lightly. "Again, Alina." A smile tugged at my lips as I leaned into his chest. "I love you." When he kissed me, it was gentler than he had ever been with me, as if I was something fragile that could be broken if handled too roughly. "I will never let you stop saying it," he whispered against my lips, his fingertips gently cascading down the side of my face. "Don't give me a reason to stop," I murmured, my eyes fluttering back closed.

We both knew it was a precarious balance, but in this moment, he was the man that I loved and I couldn't help but not care about anything else.

The fighting would have to come later. 

***

I watched in amusement as Aleksander proceeded to fill his porridge with an excessive amount of brown sugar, coating the surface in a thick layer of the sweetness. He pointedly ignored me, his attention fixed on the contents of the envelope that I had delivered last night. When I had asked to see it, he dodged the question, leading me to assume it had something to do with Nikolai. I didn't dare to try and find out the answer. "Are you planning on making an appearance today?" I asked playfully, though not without a hint of caution. I couldn't assume he was any better than yesterday, he had shown me time and time again he was masterful at hiding his emotions. He purposefully heaped a large spoonful of porridge into his mouth to avoid answering, continuing to look over his papers.

"Very mature, old man," I rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my own runny, gelatinous oats. I had never liked the dish, but that seemed to be a recurring theme as far as the difference in me and Aleksander's tastes. "Yes, I'm the immature one," he sarcastically replied. The slight smile to his lips was almost imperceptible, but I caught it. "Seriously, Aleksander, you can't hide yourself away forever," I arched a brow. He sighed, putting down the envelope and meeting my expectant stare. "Wouldn't it be easier if I did?" he asked with a measure of seriousness. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. "Are you trying to get me to say that I want to spend time with you?" He let out a soft laugh, giving me a brief glimpse of his breathtaking smile. "No, Alina, but I know you haven't just forgotten the differences in what we want," he mused. I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand.

He was right, as he often was.

"I still want to be with you," I softly mumbled, making the edge of his lips curl. My eyes averted as I took another bite of my bland breakfast. "Fine, Alina," he sighed. I heard the sound of metal on wood as he placed his spoon down into the table, his footsteps light as he walked to me. I stood up, allowing my eyes to travel up his body until I reached his gaze. "Or we could not go," I offered. He shook his head, the muscles clenching at his jawline, "You're right Alina, I need to be there. My mother would have ripped me apart for neglecting my country." I could hear the edge of pain to his voice, one he laid out in plain view, not bothering to hide it from me. "I love it when you say I'm right," I smiled softly. His hand pressed against the small of my back, pulling me into him. "Don't get used to it," he murmured, his lips grazing my forehead. "We'll see," I smirked.

After all, we had an eternity together.

***

"We're going to mobilize in the north and fortify the appropriate forts for battle." Aleksander's voice was cold, devoid of any of the warmth it had held earlier. "That's entirely unnecessary, there has been no sign of aggression since we pulled back and worked on rebuilding the outskirts of the villages instead," I shot back, my fingers splayed out of the map of Ravka as I leaned forward. The room was deadly quiet, and had been for the last half hour as me and Aleksander argued incessantly. "That is irrelevant, they betrayed our treaty, not to mention they still _burn our kind like animals_. I will not let Fjerda stand regardless if they are not _currently_ attacking us." His stare was piercing, unrelenting. I exhaled sharply in irritation, my fingertips hot with suppressed light. I suspected if I was still touching the map, it would be burnt through with my touch.

"That doesn't mean we have to do the same, they're innocent civilians, we can avoid this war," I folded my arms over my chest, my fingernails biting into my arms as my hands tightened with tension. "They are not innocent, and they deserve no such treatment," he mirrored my actions, his arms crossing. I narrowed my eyes, silently cursing him. He was as stubborn as he was beautiful. "How about we just fortify the forts on the border, there's no need to mobilize right now, especially with Nikolai and the Soldat Sol still at large," I insisted. He paused. I could see him barely considering, his gaze never leaving mine. "We will fortify the forts on the border," he finally broke the silence, "We will hold off mobilizing until the following week. Send the reports out to the First Army immediately." A Grisha scribbled down the order onto a piece of parchment, nodding furiously in agreement. "Is that all, moi tsar?" he clasped his hands together earnestly. I glared at Aleksander as he gave a wave of dismissal, the meeting had long ran over the original time we had allotted due to me and Aleksander's drawn out argument. Ivan was scowling at me the whole way out of the room. I shot him an equally hot glare.

"There's absolutely no need to attack Fjerda," I angrily protested as the room emptied, leaving us alone. "Maybe, but I _want_ to attack Fjerda, because I care about protecting my own kind," he tilted his head in indifference. "There are better ways to deal with it then slaughtering their people, Aleksander," I closed my eyes for a brief moment in frustration. Why we couldn't see eye to eye was beyond me, and unimaginably irritating when all I wanted to do was fall into his arms. "What do you suggest, Alina? Asking nicely for them to stop torturing Grisha? Sending them gifts filled with rainbows and butterflies? In all of my centuries of living, their ways have never changed. We will be the ones to finally put a stop to it, even if it means killing every last one of them."

My eyes rolled at his words, a scoff escaping my lips. "You're right, Aleksander, the only two ways to deal with this are to either decimate their people or to ask them nicely, you're right," I smiled sarcastically. He pressed two fingers to his temple, his eyes closing as he let out a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm holding off for now, Alina, not because I agree, but because it's what you asked for, okay?" he toned. I stared at him, quietly absorbing what he had said. Months ago, he had brushed off my opinion like a piece of dirt on his kefta. Now, he had just altered the entire trajectory of his plans to appease me. "Fine, but we're not done talking about this," I warned.

It was a start, I would give him that.

***

"What are you thinking about."

My eyes were closed as Aleksander ran his fingers through my hair, his lips hovering over the slope of my neck. I shifted on the bed, looking up at him from under my lashes. "Nothing." He arched a brow, his fingertips lightly traveling down my arm to rest against my palm. "Don't make me force it out of you." A small part of me wanted to find out what he meant, but his gaze immediately made my resolve crumble. "I miss my friends, and I miss Sasha, and Nikolai," I mumbled hesitantly, "And I know I can't have you both, especially not you and Nikolai. And it hurts." He tensed for a split second before quickly relaxing again. I cut him off before he could speak. "And don't tell me it doesn't matter because they'll be dead in a century, because it matters right now."

His fingers drifted over the scar on my palm as he silently contemplated, sending goosebumps down my arm.

"How can I make you forget, then," he questioned softly, his fingertips tracing blissful circles across the surface of my skin. I allowed my eyes to close, savoring the feeling of him against me. "We can always stop fighting," I murmured. I thanked him internally for not full on laughing at the words. There couldn't possibly be a peaceful outcome when Nikolai and Aleksander both wanted the throne. He tugged at my hand, allowing him to lace his fingers through mine. "The fighting never stops," he uttered softly, lifting our hands so he could press his lips over my knuckles. "Not if we run away." Something flickered in his eyes. He pulled me closer on the silken sheets, his mouth on mine before I could protest. Not that I would protest. I let out a breathy moan against his soft lips, my back arching as his free hand pressed against it. He was intoxicating, every languid swipe of his tongue leaving me aching for more.

After a long moment, he pulled away, making me groan involuntarily at the loss of contact. "You would want to run away with me?" he searched my eyes, his sincerity clear. I played with the ends of his hair, feeling a warm flush crawl across my cheeks. "I love you Aleksander, I would give it all up to be with you," I murmured truthfully. It was embarrassing that I knew he didn't feel the same, he loved nothing more than power. I wasn't even sure how he felt about me, after all, he hadn't told me he loved me back. I suddenly felt unimaginably foolish, looking into his silver eyes that were carefully concealed from so much as hinting at any form of emotion. "I wouldn't want you to, not for me," he worded emphatically. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth with a halfhearted nod.

Foolish Alina.

"Alina," he sighed, immediately sensing the dip in my mood. "No, Aleksander, it's fine," I peeled myself away from the comfort of his grasp, my eyes fastening upwards onto the dark ceiling. The plush mattress dipped as he closed back the distance between our bodies. "I told you once no person is worthy of you, Alina. I hope you don't think I am arrogant enough as to think of myself as a god." A flicker of surprise tingled at my fingertips as I realized what he was implying. "You don't think you're worthy of me?" I asked with a touch of incredulity. He studied me, his eyes roaming over the planes of my face, a startling reverence in his gaze. "Nothing will ever be worthy of you, solnishka." I shivered as his fingers trailed down my cheek, lingering on the curve of my lips. My skin was buzzing with warmth. "Just kiss me, please." His lips were against mine in a heartbeat.

I didn't mention Nikolai again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)


	30. im not sulking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter I experimented with a lot of pov changes, and though I probably won't continue to write future parts this jumpy/back and forth, let me know what you think of this kind of structure!
> 
> from now on im going to try and make individual chapters longer, so obviously that means some slower updates but I think it'll be better :) 
> 
> also im finally starting crooked kingdom and I plan on finishing it during vacation this week im so excited and I also pre ordered king of scars so im double excited im praying for an aleksander appearance/comeback from the dead which I know is a long long long shot but dARKNESS NEVER DIES and more realistically an alina cameo because I love her dynamic with my bb nikolai 
> 
> anddd if you got through all of that rambling this first part is from nikolai's pov and I worked really hard on it but for some reason I feel like its even harder to write him than aleksander. oh well. he's only going to get a couple parts of his pov so savor them 
> 
> okay bye enjoy <3

Nikolai's P.O.V

I sat with my head in my hands, unable to hide my exhaustion from the table full of my advisors. Advisors was a loose term, maybe something closer to a wide array of individuals who watched while I single handedly continued to lose almost every battle and practically hand Ravka over to a power hungry madman. Among those individuals were Genya, Zoya, Tolya, Tamar, and David, who now stared at me in a manner that made me cringe. As if I really was the weak otkazat'sya that the Darkling had always written me off as. The claw marks in my back itched in reminder.

"As long as he has Alina, I don't think we can face him," Genya finally answered my original question that I couldn't quite remember now, something along the lines of _how the hell do we beat this blood thirsty monster_. "Regardless of if she is in on our plans, I think she'll catch up pretty fast, she's a smart individual," I cocked my head to the side, my lips pursing slightly. Zoya let out a snort that might have been a noise of disagreement, but I didn't deign to ask. She could be as wicked as I was clever, and I was beyond the threshold of being able to deal with her constant bitching at the moment. I had an army and a slew of innocent civilians to worry about.

I turned to Nevsky, who was sitting quietly to my right. "What do you think." He didn't hesitate. "Kill the girl," he stated simply, his voice cold and gravelly and emotionless. Genya tensed, coiling up like a tiger ready to pounce. "I will rip you to pieces before you will so much as touch her," she snapped, her words dripping with poison. I held up a hand, forcing a smile. "Though I thoroughly enjoy hearing my own soldiers talk about killing one another, I would rather we focus on our enemy at the moment."

The tent flap opened before anyone could reply, revealing a young, lanky soldier, a mere boy. "Moi soveryeni, the Apparat has arrived, he requests to speak with you," he nervously related, adjusting his crooked helmet. I paused, mentally steeling myself. "He is more than welcome in," I flashed another forced smile. The temperature of the room seemed to drop as the weathered, tan canvas opened wider, allowing the creepy old man to enter. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" I pleasantly asked, meeting his beady eyes. As usual, he reeked of mildew and death, his dark hair stringy and his skin sickly pale in comparison. "I couldn't help but overhear your discussion of our strategy moving forward," he bared his yellowed teeth in a presumable smile, "I agree with the soldier. Sankta Alina is their saint, and she will be an even more useful tool to the resistance as a martyr." The room fell silent. "How dare you!" Genya slammed her hands down on the wooden table as she shot to her feet. She grabbed him by his collar, yanking him towards her, "You disgusting, backstabbing, horrible man-"

Tamar, who had been silent up to this point, stood up, quickly placing a hand on her arm, whispering something indiscernible in her ear. She stilled, her eyes blazing with fire as she exhaled, releasing him after a drawn out pause. The Apparat was wheezing, his forehead had quickly broken out with an oily sweat that glistened in the lamplight. "As I said before, when you were so graciously eavesdropping on our conversation, I don't believe it is necessary," I raised an eyebrow, "And I have a suspicion you have forgotten who is in charge. That stunt you pulled with the attack on Os Alta has not been forgotten, Apparat." He flushed an angry red. "If I don't approve of whatever ludicrous plan you come up with, you will not have the support of the Soldat Sol," he seethed. "Thank you, priest, I will take that into consideration." My fingers lifted in a lazy wave of dismissal, making him let out an angry huff before exiting. "What a ray of sunshine," I stood up, exhaustion hanging over my shoulders, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sleep before I die from my complete lack of it. Don't wake me up unless the Darkling himself is knocking down my door begging for my audience."

I left silence in my wake.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

I was torn from sleep in a mess of sweat and sheets, my breaths labored as the nightmares quickly receded from my vision. Another one about my mother, about stealing her sight and leaving her with nothing but darkness for comfort. Except this time, when I had finished tearing her eyes from her skull, it had been Alina staring back at me, her haunting cries echoing in my ears even now. My eyes were drawn to her. She was still fast asleep beside me, her white hair falling against the silken pillow like a halo.

An angel was not meant to be with a monster.

My fingers tightened around the sheets. Since when did I become so weak? Nightmares and guilt and affection all tangled in a disgusting mess that made me less sure than I had ever been of myself. I felt _human_ again, after centuries and centuries of living, and this damned woman was the one to do it. "Aleks," she mumbled, her eyes still closed as her hands lifted from the mattress to reach out for me, almost as if she had sensed the turn of my thoughts. I let my hand fall back against the blanket, which she immediately found, lacing her fingers through mine with a soft sigh of content. Her rosy lips quirked up into a smile, still swathed in the clutches of sleep. It left me breathless, the sheer perfection of her, splayed out on my bed and holding onto me as if I was everything she had. A far cry from having to mask myself as a lowly otkazat'sya boy to be on the receiving end of her affections. "Aleks, go back to sleep," she whispered, her eyes still shut as her grip tightened around my hand.

Sleep.

It had eluded me for far too long, nightmares and memories surfacing and slithering into my dreams relentlessly, demanding to be seen. She was my only refuge in the dark, when my heart beat so fast I almost believed that death had finally caught up to me. I didn't want to go back to sleep. It was strange, to admit that weakness, even if only just to myself. My lip curled at the thought. I tensed as Alina sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before placing a hand on my arm. "What is it?" she softly asked, her voice like the sweet caress of sin. Her golden eyes were too captivating, I had to look away. "Nightmares." I silently cursed myself for admitting it out loud. I observed the shock registering in her eyes, then something softer replaced the former emotion, her fingers tightening around my own. Her skin was warm against mine. I tried not to focus on it.

Saints, she was maddening.

"I had nightmares every night for months," she casted her eyes down to the sheets, "Want to know how I got rid of them?" Curiosity sparked in my chest, though I didn't allow it to show. "I decided to dream about something I loved instead," she smiled softly. Her lips pressed against mine in a chaste kiss before she fell back against the covers. A constricting feeling tightened its invisible hold on my chest.

An angel was not meant to be with a monster.

***

Alina's P.O.V

"I'm leaving."

I looked up at him from the book I had buried myself in, a history of the conflict between Ravka and Fjerda. Aleksander was next to the fireplace in his own designated chair, we had sat in content silence as we read in the library for hours. "And why is that?" I questioned apprehensively, laying the weathered book down onto the adjacent table. He didn't look up from his own book, instead his eyes continued to follow the words on the page. "We're having problems near the Northern border again," he nonchalantly responded, flipping to the next page. "And I'm guessing you're not planning to take me with you." He nodded in affirmation, still refusing to look at me. My jaw set. I glanced over at the ornate library doors where the oprichniki were stationed, stoic as always. They had witnessed a great many of our fights, and this would quickly become another one to add to the ever growing list.

"Tell me why," I narrowed my eyes slightly, feeling the hot buzz of anger rising in my chest. We both knew exactly why. He looked up, meeting my sharp gaze with a calm, controlled stare. "I suspect you already know the reason, Alina," he mused. "If you think that I'll let you leave to try and destroy Nikolai while I just sit idly by, then you're delusional," I hardened my words until each one was sharp and deadly. As with any argument between us, the intensity was quickly heightening, his eyes holding a silent challenge. "And how are you going to stop me?" he asked mockingly, crossing his legs at the ankles as he leaned back in his velvet chair.

For fucks sake, why was he so breathtakingly attractive. It made these arguments entirely unfair.

"I think I have more leverage than you will admit to yourself, Aleksander," I smiled bitterly. Even now, he still tensed at the use of his name, as if it was a physical manifestation of his weakness. "He killed my mother, I could care less about your supposed love for him," he leaned forward, his words saturated with a tangled mess of pain and anger. The air emptied from my lungs. I still couldn't come to terms with the fact that Nikolai had been the one that had orchestrated Baghra's death, but there was no other plausible explanation. It was sickening. "All I ask of you is to spare his life," I softly spoke, dipping my head.

Silence.

Both of our attention was diverted as the library doors were pushed open. Of course, it had to be Ivan. "Moi tsar, the Shu Han have arrived to speak with you," he addressed Aleksander, not so much as sparing a glance at me. I almost saw Aleksander hesitate, his eyes flickering to me before he snapped his book closed, standing up. "And what is this meeting about," I pressed in frustration. "That is not of your concern at the present," he avoided my eyes, "We will continue this later." As he exited, his kefta rippling behind him dramatically, I fought the urge to throw an insult after him. Or better yet, the heavy book currently clenched in my grasp. It seemed all of our arguments ended this way, never getting solved and leaving more and more questions unanswered, piling up like a closet full of skeletons.

The precarious balance was already dangerously close to failing.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

My mind lingered on the argument with Alina as I entered the throne room, my gaze fastening on the Shu Han representative I had sent for. The man was startlingly brutish for a foreign negotiator, his jaw pockmarked with scars. A former soldier, presumably. He bowed, though he didn't speak to formally address me by my title, making Ivan clench his fist at the ready. "At ease, Ivan," I held up my hand. Alina's soft words echoed in the back of my mind. 

_We can avoid this war._

"Your king knows we can easily crush your pitiful country," I swiftly sat down on my gilded throne, my eyes flickering over the man's uniform inscribed with an emblem of crossed swords, the symbol for their military. His lips twitched, but he made no indication he would respond to my bait. "I am offering you peace in exchange for all of your captive Grisha," I continued, the words tasting bitter on my tongue, "I have offered no such negotiation for Fjerda. I expect your king not to take this lightly." Finally, he opened his mouth to reply. His voice was rough and his words were stilted with the inhibition of his thick accent. "He wonders what will keep you from breaking your word, with the Fold at your disposal," he steeled. My lips quirked in a look of cold amusement. "And what alternative do you have other than to trust it?" His mouth curled into a snarl, I could hear Ivan snickering from his post next to me. I kept my expression placidly neutral. 

"I have been instructed to comply with your terms, as long as the king will be graced with an invitation to the palace to speak in person, and meet your Sun Summoner face to face," he finally reluctantly bit out. My fingers drifted to my lips. Alina would be more than happy to make peace with them, especially within the safety of our own walls. "Tell your king we have a deal," I allowed a thin smile. He leaned forward in a stiff bow, "I will relay the message." A peculiar sense took hold of me as I absently watched Ivan and the oprichniki lead him away. For the first time in my life I had seceded a scrap of power that was easily within my grasp.

Something stirred in my chest, unfamiliar but terrifyingly recognizable.

No.

It couldn't be.

***

Alina's P.O.V

I ate fervently despite the fact that I wasn't hungry in the slightest, mainly to make myself look busy as I sat at the Summoner's table, feeling Aleksander's stare piercing through me from his chair. I had avoided him all day, and stubbornly refused to sit with him at dinner. Luca sat to my right, droning on to me and another Summoner girl about training and where he thought they would be stationed in the inevitable upcoming war. "I'd like to be on the Fjerdan border, at least they don't experiment on their captured Grisha like the Shu Han," the girl wrinkled her nose. "Yeah but I'm not sure I'd like to be burned alive either, I'll gladly fight the Lantsov army, what did they ever do for Grisha?" Luca countered. I shifted uncomfortably, biting down on the inside of my cheek. It would be at the orders of Aleksander, the man that I loved, that would be sending people like them to their deaths. "Hopefully we won't have to fight at all," I sighed, picking at my herring in distaste. Their eyes both shot to me in surprise, I suspected they thought I wasn't really paying attention to their conversation. "Sometimes war is necessary," Luca shrugged, turning back to his food and resuming to shovel it down.

I tried to keep myself from scowling. Why did everyone seem to accept that fact that people needed to die to have peace? Maybe I was naive, but maybe I just was the only one willing to admit we could have another option. I shifted uncomfortably. Aleksander's stare was heavy, making my skin heat with the feeling of it. I immediately felt it when he looked away, allowing me to seize my chance to sneak a glance back. He was alone at the head of his ebony table, his chin resting in his hand as he slowly ate his food. He looked like a lost puppy. Guilt crashed over me in a wave, despite the fact that I was supposed to be mad at him for being an aggressive, stubborn, tyrant of a king. It seemed I couldn't stay angry at him for long anymore, even if he deserved it.

And saints damn him, he did deserve it.

With a sigh, I stood up, nodding my head to the table in acknowledgement before turning, making the long trek up the stairs towards Aleksander. He avoided my eyes as I placed my plate down next to him, pulling a chair out and sitting down heavily. "You can stop sulking now," I raised an eyebrow, tearing off a piece of roll and placing it in my mouth. "I'm not sulking," he cooly responded. I stifled a snort, holding myself back from snapping a snarky reply. I eyed him from my peripheral vision, continuing to calmly eat as he stared at me indecisively.

"Do you want to come with me to the border," he flatly asked, his fingers drumming restlessly against the table. I almost laughed aloud, of course this was his roundabout way of apologizing. "Do _you_ want me to come?" I goaded, tilting my head in a manner that feigned innocence. His tongue trailed over his lower lip, his irritation clear. "Yes, Alina, I would just absolutely love for you to come with me," he tightly spoke with an edge of sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, placing another piece of buttery roll into my mouth. "I'll only go if you tell me how the Shu Han meeting went," I mumbled through my mouthful of food. Yes, it wasn't a legitimate threat by any means, but it was worth a try. His eyes roved over me, analyzing. "It was a peace negotiation," he held my gaze, "They will be coming next week to sign the papers, which I'm putting you in charge of."

Shock hit me like ice water, my jaw almost dropping. A flicker of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards at my reaction. "You're not serious," I breathed. He nodded, the smirk deepening. "I must have some redeemable qualities, you're in love with me, after all," he taunted mildly, grabbing for my hand under the table and lacing his fingers through mine. "You are so aggravating," I shook my head, unable to keep the laugh from falling from my lips. The curve of his mouth deepened. "And what about Fjerda?" I bit down on my lower lip, batting my eyelashes mockingly. His demeanor shifted in a split second. "Don't push it, solnishka," he dryly toned.

We ate the rest of our meal in silence, but the seeds of hope had been planted. And there was no way I was going to let them die.

I would have my peace for Ravka, one way or another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing :)


	31. we're done here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I just randomly got inspired after finishing crooked kingdom and wrote a lil one shot type thing for the text post talking about what if Kaz and Inej met alarkling (hopefully you guys know what I'm talking about) and if you'd like me to post it let me know, otherwise I might just let it collect dust in my large folder of random shit I have that will never see the light of day
> 
> fat smut chapter ahead, you're welcome for making you wait this long 
> 
> enjoy <3 ;)
> 
> *Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo = aristocratic style of formal address for 'your imperial majesty' 
> 
> (idc if this is inaccurate, it sounds cool sorry)

Today was the projected arrival of the Shu Han party, which had naturally sent the palace into a frantic frenzy of preparations for their stay and the subsequent celebration following the hopeful signing of the peace treaty. Needless to say, I was a nervous wreck. I watched as servant after servant, Grisha after Grisha sought out Aleksander, conversing with him quietly before scurrying away. My fingers twisted restlessly in my lap as I sat back against the hard throne. Aleksander had put me in charge of the fate of this war, it was entirely in my hands. If I failed, thousands of people would die in the war that would surely follow.

No pressure.

Aleksander's footsteps echoed on the marble floors as he approached me, all business and hard edges. "I've heard they are just arriving at the edge of the outskirts of Os Alta," he commented impassively, resting a hand against the armrest of my throne. I nodded, following his gaze as his eyes flickered away from me to track an oprichniki across the room. The guard approached him stoically. "Moi tsar, we have fortified and secured your chambers," he bowed, "The 24 hour watch has officially been put into place." Aleksander nodded, waving him away immediately. I looked up at him, trying to decipher his ever present mask. "You don't trust them?" I questioned softly, my thumb finding the edge of the fetter. He paused before responding. "After Fjerda, I'm not taking any chances," he looked away, "I'm not going to lose you again." I resisted the urge to kiss him right then and there, instead restraining myself to merely ghosting my fingers over his hand. "You're not going to lose me, Aleksander," I promised firmly. He tensed, his fingertips twitching at the contact.

"They'll be here soon," he finally cleared his throat, "Are you prepared?" And suddenly, the nerves were back, my stomach in my throat. "Tell me why do I have to do this again?" I muttered, standing up and brushing myself off. "Because this is what _you_ want," he simply put, pausing a moment before leaning in and adding, "And I know you can do it." I swatted at the swell of pride that welled up immediately in response to his small semblance of praise. I wasn't young, weak Alina anymore, I didn't need his approval. "How comforting," I rolled my eyes. Adrenaline zipped through my veins at the sound of trumpets announcing the arrival of the Shu Han party. Suddenly, I felt dizzyingly faint. "Breathe," he pressed a reassuring hand to the small of my back, gently encouraging me forward.

The heavy doors were slowly, ceremoniously drug open by the guards, revealing the small party of individuals ascending the last few number of stairs. "Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo," a man who I assumed was the king approached, bowing to Aleksander slightly before extending his hand. They shook, a tense, strained movement that seemed to last forever before they released their grip. He promptly turned his attention to me. As Aleksander had coached me the night before, I extended my hand, letting him take it. I tried not to think about his lips pressed against my skin as I quickly took analysis of his appearance. He couldn't be older than fifty, his brown hair graying but not overwhelming his natural color yet. His jaw was speckled with stubble, a black stain was smudged into his shirt. He was slightly unkempt, enough to signal that he wasn't necessarily uptight. That would be easier to deal with as far as negotiations.

"Vashe Imperatorskoye Velichestvo," he addressed me by the same formal address, finally letting go of my hand, "I am looking forward to our negotiation." I allowed a thin smile, not hinting at enthusiasm nor cynicism. As Aleksander has told me time and time again, politics were a game. I needed to be neutral, calm, collected, all of the things Aleksander was a master of. "It's a pleasure to have you here in Os Alta," I responded evenly. He nodded, continuing on to the serf girl who greeted him to show him to his quarters.

The queen, who had just finished conversing with Aleksander, finally moved to me. Her green eyes not so subtly looked me up and down, not necessarily in an unfriendly manner, but similar to a look Aleksander would give. Calculating. "So this is the famed Sun Summoner," she observed mildly, sweeping back her blonde curls from her neck as she dipped her head. I returned the gesture, working to keep myself from shifting under her gaze. "In the flesh." She laughed, though I didn't miss the subtle flicker of her eyes to examine my palms. "I'll have to see a demonstration, if the peace negotiations follow through with my husband," she regarded me with muted fascination, as if I was a particularly interesting new toy. It was a sobering reminder that these were the rulers of a country that cut open and experimented on their Grisha like we were animals. Aleksander moved to hover behind me, the heat of his body doing nothing for my concentration. "We will see you within the hour for negotiations, I trust," he looked between the king and queen expectantly. "Undoubtedly," the king returned. My stomach turned.

An hour and I would have the fate of two countries in my hands.

***

"Our conditions are simple, peace and protection from war in exchange for your captured Grisha and the prohibition from persecuting our kind in the future." My voice was steady, confident. As Aleksander had previously told me, he wasn't actively participating, merely sitting back in his grand chair, watching us with detached, mild interest. The Shu king and queen were across the long length of the ebony table, the pair looking relatively intimidating as they analyzed me with with a blatant lack of subtlety. "And what do we gain from this, other than your supposed ceasefire," the king narrowed his eyes a fraction, his skepticism obvious.

Maybe that Aleksander wouldn't burn their country to the ground?

I forced a pleasant smile onto my lips, working to remain calm. "Other than a lasting period of peace, we'll open up trade routes along the southern border." I sensed the immediate increase in Aleksander's awareness, as that hadn't been apart of the original plan. But if he wanted me to be in charge of this, I was going to do whatever it would take for it to work. The queen pressed her hand over her husband's arm, an unreadable expression masking her face as they silently communicated with each other.

I felt a sharp tug on the tether, almost making me flinch. Turning, I met Aleksander's gaze, which was tinged with a hint of irritation. I arched a brow in challenge.

_You were the one that put me in charge._

He canted his head, making an annoyed, exaggerated gesture with this hand that was something along the lines of _fine, go ahead then_. My attention was diverted as the king cleared his throat, "We have a contingency before we agree. Protection from Fjerda if they choose to attack because of this alliance." I almost laughed. "Done." I couldn't keep myself from grinning. Aleksander stood up at that, presenting a thin stack of official looking documents stamped with his seal. He signed with his dramatic, spiraling cursive before promptly sliding the papers across the wood table.

"Wait," the queen protested calmly, her hand moving to rest atop her husband's that held the pen. A faint buzz of nervousness hummed in my chest. "Show me your light," she spoke, her green eyes piercing through me. Aleksander stiffened, an echo of his possessiveness reverberating through me. The silence hung over the room. I raised my palm slightly, angling it forward and calling a soft glow to the surface. Light bloomed across my skin, filling the relatively dark room with the brightness of a summer afternoon. Her eyes shone with morbid curiosity. "Now sign the papers," I flatly voiced, letting the light gradually fade. This time there was no hesitation, he scribbled his signature alongside Aleksander's with a grand flourish. He looked up with a grin. "Now, let the festivities begin."

***

I sipped at a flute of champagne, trying not to look bored as a noble droned on and on about politics. I was getting more practiced in the dynamics of these kinds of parties, in the fake friendliness among the aristocrats, in the craving for my attention. I had never heard so much talk of mundane, rich problems in my life. "The continual objection to the monarchy is absurd," the dark haired noble gesticulated, "It is merely the omnipresent lingering of the atmosphere of the middle class mentality, it precisely signifies their inferior biological makeup." I had to resist from rolling my eyes at his pretentiousness. "And what are your thoughts on our disruption of the monarchy," I arched a brow. He turned slightly pink.  "A natural side affect of progress and the evolution of the power in the monarchy, weak links have to be eradicated," he recovered quickly. I flashed him a thin smile, my eyes flickering to Aleksander, who was lost in his own pool of desperate nobles. He looked especially bored, his eyes blank as a duchess eagerly tried to gain his interest.

"If I may interject," the Shu king appeared from out of nowhere, making me quickly refocus. The noble eyed him before dipping his head, conceding his place in front of me. "May I have a dance?" he extended his hand. I tried not to grimace as I wordlessly took it, letting him lead me out to the center of the swarm of dancing couples. My skin crawled as he pulled me closer, his hand resting at my waist with an uncomfortable firmness. We fell into a waltz that was considerably less graceful than when Aleksander led me. "Your husband seems to have great faith in you, putting this war in your hands," he finally commented. I met his gaze in surprise. "He's not my husband." I silently cursed myself at my impulsive response. He raised his eyebrows, studying me in an obvious manner. "We believe in equality," I simply put. It was true on some level, he always talked about how I was his equal and his balance. And I wasn't about to tell him that it was mainly because Aleksander would have rather swallowed his country whole in a pit of darkness and volcra.

We fell into a tense silence, moving in wide circles of the waltz. I could feel Aleksander's eyes burning into me, making me look up to meet his gaze. He was still surrounded by desperate nobles, but it was clear he wasn't paying attention at this point, his stare piercing as he watched us. "My wife thinks your kind are fascinating," the king continued, "I don't share her opinions. But as long as we are useful to each other, we will respect the treaty." My attention shifted back to him, "Then I guess we have a mutual understanding of each other." The look that flitted across his features could only be described of one of mild impressment. It was the most political of answers, despite the anger coursing through my veins.

The song ended, immediately I removed my hand from his. "Thank you for your time, my Sun Summoner," he spoke with a touch of mocking, pressing his lips to my knuckles briefly before retreating back to his wife. I made my way over to Aleksander, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides in an attempt to control my temper. He tracked me with his eyes, his former intensity replaced with a desirous amusement. The crowd surrounding him parted for me, I stalked up to his side with gritted teeth clenched into a tight smile. Aleksander cleared the space with a lazy wave of his fingers. They retreated like starving animals. "What did he say to you," he murmured calmly, his hand sliding across my waist to rest at the small of my back. Even through the layers of black lace covering the bodice of my gown, I could feel the heat of his touch. "I want to kill him," I breathed, my words clipped as my teeth bit over each syllable. He hummed in response, his soft lips brushing over my temple. "I think that would prove some complications for your peace treaty," he mused. I flashed him a look, making his lips curl into a soft, sultry smirk.

And suddenly, I was burning hot in an entirely different way.

"I need another drink," I pulled away, snatching another flute of champagne from a serving tray. The bubbly liquid slid down my throat without hinderance, leaving behind a slight burn from the alcohol content. I handed the empty glass to Aleksander, glowering as the circle of aristocrats moved back in on us. I stayed silent and brooding as Aleksander conversed, his fingers never far from my skin. Through the forced conversation and politically driven pleasantries, I suddenly could only think about the feeling of him pressing against me, how it must feel to have every part of him. My mind was growing hazy, but not with alcohol, no, it was a primal lust for the man that could have me begging for him with the barest graze of his lips. My cheeks were hot with the shame of my thoughts, I looked down to my feet, adjusting my dress in an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone. Aleksander pulled me from my thoughts with a brush of his hand against my own, "Dance with me?" I had previously thought I had enough of dancing to last a lifetime.

It seems I had been proven wrong by him once again.

"If you insist," I sighed a slight measure too dramatically, making him arch a brow. He tightened his hold, gently pulling me to the center of the marbled floor. A lilting waltz filled the room, and immediately he pulled me into the steps as naturally as breathing. "Cooled off a little bit?" he asked with a teasing edge to his voice. I twirled my fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends just hard enough to make him stiffen. "Cool enough," I leaned into him, letting my eyes close as we swayed to the music. I could have died happy in this moment, fully enraptured with the feeling of being in his arms. His fingertips traced gentle patterns over the back of my hand, his breath flush against the side of my neck.

"You're tense," he commented mildly, his grip adjusting at my waist to pull me closer to him. "What a fascinating observation," I hummed, trying not to think about his body pressing into me. His fingers twitched, I knew he hated when I avoided his questions. "I'm thinking about Mal," I goaded, a smirk twisting my lips as he let out a sharp, almost involuntary exhale of irritation. "Don't go there with me, Alina," he warned softly, his voice perfectly controlled. Silence fell between us. My teeth sank into my lower lip as his voice decreased in volume, his lips hovering over my ear. "I told you I would rid you of the taste of that otkazat'sya, and I will most certainly claim every last part of you as my own. Don't think that was an empty promise, Alina." It was frustrating how desperately I wanted to sink to my knees and beg for him. "Do you really think that I ever did anything with Mal?" I spoke against my better judgement. He stiffened against me.

"You never.... _no_."

A measure of disbelief tinged the edge of the words, mixed with something almost animalistic in its desire. I let out a laugh at his reaction, drawing back slightly so I could take in his clearly stunned expression. "Never," I looked up at him through my lashes, unable to keep the satisfaction from my tongue. Somehow, he managed to retain the feigned ease in control of his movement as we danced, but I could feel the wave of his overwhelming lust and frustration at the newfound knowledge. He wanted me, and that made me want him that much more. The lilting waltz seemed to prolong into hours, my skin burning wherever he touched, the slightest adjustments of his fingertips sending tingles racing down my arms. The last drawn out note from the violins filled the expansive ballroom, fading away into the sounds of conversations. "Let's go," Aleksander softly uttered, "We're done here." For once, I couldn't find words. A slight nod was all I could manage. His eyes were dark as he took my hand.

***

My eyes rolled back as Aleksander continued to make quick work of marking my neck, my body wedged between the door and his arms pinning me in place against the wood. A breathy moan left my lips as I exhaled, I could do nothing but melt into his every touch as he worked to taste every possible inch of my exposed skin, following the slope of my neck down to my collarbone. I was dimly aware of his fingers trailing down my back, and suddenly the clasped buttons of my dress were pulled open in one continuous movement. My back arched involuntarily as his touch drifted over my bare skin, heat spreading through me like a wildfire. His silver eyes met mine as his fingers curled around the fabric at my shoulders, tugging the sleeves from my arms. The primal intensity of his gaze was dizzying, my lips parted in response, desperate to have the feeling back of him against my skin. A shiver slithered down my spine as he slid the fabric down my hips, his fingers splaying out over my waist until it fell into a pool of silk and lace at my feet, the cool air caressing my skin and juxtaposing the heat that burned throughout my body. He regarded me as if he was a starving animal. 

I almost sunk to my knees right then, I was wildly, infuriatingly, uncontrollably desperate for him.

His fingers dug into my thigh as he grasped my leg to pull me closer, his lips finding mine with quick and raw ferocity. My hands travelled upward to fist his shirt, gripping the fabric hard. "Aleksander," I breathed against the soft contours of his mouth. "Alina," he returned, my name almost a growl, his touch cascading down my bare hips and finding the back of my thighs to lift me up.

Then my back was against the soft mattress and he was on top of me, his hips pressing hard into mine as his lips trailed a bruising path down the curve of my neck. My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, unclasping them rather clumsily as my hands trembled from the ache forming between my legs. The black dress shirt fell from his shoulders, allowing me full view of his lean, muscled body. "Say it," he searched my eyes, his arms braced on either side of me. My teeth found my lower lip, the sharp pain bringing back the slightest measure of reality. Even so, I couldn't resist the words.

"Make me."

His eyes darkened from their silvery hue to something akin to a deep, stormy grey. "A bold statement considering that you're already ready for me," he growled softly. I flushed, desperately clenching my legs together as his fingers trailed a slow, agonizing path down the valley of my breasts to my bare stomach. I was already dripping, every last inch of me screaming for him to do anything he wanted to me. "Say it, Alina," he pressed, his fingers hooking through the lace of my underwear. The heat was unbearable, my hips bucked upward into his touch. I whimpered, making a malicious smirk curl at his lips when I pressed my legs together. He pried them back open with a firm tug, sweeping his touch up along the inside of my thigh. "Aleksander," I managed to bite out, my fingers twisting through the sheets. His lips drifted to hover over mine, the heat of his mouth only increasing the overwhelming strain of my body towards his. An expert twirl of his fingers suddenly had my panties on the floor.

"Alina." My name was almost a plea from his lips, he was almost as tightly wound as I was. "I-I love you, Aleksander," I exhaled, my breath catching as finally, _finally_ , he slid his fingers along my sensitive folds, feather light as he continued to tease my arousal. A good distraction from the fact that he hadn't returned the words yet again. The brief thought vanished as his index finger glided through my dripping sex, pulling moans from me with ease. "Mine," he whispered against my jawline, his free hand tracing down my shoulders to where my bra was clasped. "Could you be any slower," I panted, grasping for his arm in desperation. A long stroke of his index and middle fingers inside of me made any other complaint die on my lips. He released the clasp of my bra, letting the garment fall from my shoulders as he withdrew his fingers from my sex. I tossed my bra to the side in frustration, a brief second of self consciousness at my exposure immediately drowned out by a wave of pleasure as his lips met the skin of my breasts. I gasped at the feeling of his teeth, quickly littering the beginnings of more marks across my body. "Please," I found myself begging, the feeling of him pressed against me starting to become entirely too much. He drew back suddenly as if I had burned him, his lips glistening with moisture. "Tell me what you want, Alina," he rasped, his voice throaty with desire. I needed him so badly it felt like I would shatter to pieces if I didn't have my release.

But if I allowed this to happen, there certainly wouldn't be any going back.

"I want you, Aleks, I want every part of you to be mine, forever," I whispered, the words soft with sin. He had stolen my heart, he had stolen my youth, my innocence, he had taken almost everything from me. And yet, the person in my presence at this moment, he was not that same man that had ripped away so much from me. "Do you really, solnishka," he had stilled, the quiet vulnerability I had come to be able to recognize now laid bare in front of me.

"Yes." I had never been more sure of something in my life.

I wasn't prepared for the feeling of his lips crashing down on mine, hot and feverish and mirroring everything inside of me a hundredfold. My fingers weaved through his silky black curls, tugging and pulling and twisting with need. He hissed softly, his grip slicing into my hips as he swiftly pulled them back up into the curve of his own body, his own arousal as clear as my own. A slight shift, I barely observed through the effectively distracting feeling of his mouth against my own. "Tell me if I hurt you." The string of words was barely intelligible, his control long ago dissolved in a haze of bare skin and pleasure. I hadn't realized he had somehow done away with his pants without me realizing it, and the press of his body against my own was purely uninhibited flesh to flesh. _Yes_. "Alina," he growled at my lack of reply, the muscles in his arms tightening with the amount of control he was exerting. "Yes, Aleksander, please-"

Something between a moan and a scream fell from my lips as suddenly he was inside of me, completing me in every single way and oh it felt like fucking _perfection_. The muscles in his jaw feathered as he eased in and out of me with a level of control I couldn't possibly fathom. Waves of pleasure crested through every inch of me, my body twisting underneath him at the feeling. His grip curled around my wrists, pinning them down against the sheets. "F-faster, I can't," I couldn't seem to find the words, every struggled attempt swallowed by a new ripple of ecstasy. His hard thrusts increased in pace, the shadows coming alive and swallowing every last scrap of light in the room as I felt him become unhinged against me. "Alina." A raspy, throaty moan emitted from his lips against my mouth, making my toes curl. I would welcome death if it came with the sound. "Faster," I pleaded again, clenching around his length. There was a beat of near stillness before he slammed back into me. I cried out, my vision flashing with the hot, unadulterated feeling. My fingernails sunk into his back, digging into the flesh as I bit down on my lower lip to keep myself from screaming. "My name, Alina," he breathed, having regained a degree of control, a hand grasping for my leg to angle my hips upwards. I couldn't help but have his name obediently tumble from my lips, he was everything around me, pleasure and darkness and mine, Aleksander.

 _AleksanderAleksanderAleksanderfuckAleksandersaintsAleksanderAleksanderAleksander_.

I couldn't stop his name from rolling off my tongue, all that I could manage besides profanities that mixed in with wild abandon. Sweat beaded on my temple, my white hair tangling as he dug his fingers through my long waves, sweeping my neck upwards to press his mouth against mine and capturing each new moan that tumbled from the depths of my being. The bed had begun to rock with the force of our bodies, slamming against the wall in time with the sinful sounds of sex between us. Heat settled at the base of my spine, I was achingly close to the brink, yet I knew I would never be able to release if he didn't allow me to. "Is this what you want, solnishka," he rasped, his voice barely breaking through the sea of pure pleasure I was drowning in. "Yes, _yes_ Aleksander, you, this is all I want," I whimpered almost incoherently, my fingernails slicing further into his back, making his muscles coil underneath my grip. "Forever, Alina." His hand dipped, his thumb finding my clit and circling the sensitive nerves with maddening expertise. I was trembling, my whole body relinquishing to his every silent command, moving my hips against him to meet his rhythm. "Please, fuck, Aleks," I wailed, my orgasm begging to be released.

My back arched off of the sheets, my hand grasping for his as he fucked me faster, harder, unrelenting. "Look at me," he hissed, his eyes almost black with desire. I forced my eyes to his, meeting his gaze just as he sent me over the edge. The feeling was one of sheer perfection as I fell over into a haze of screaming, raw pleasure, every inch of me consumed with the sensation. Moments after he followed me, the shadows writhing and snapping as we came undone together, my fingernails wildly clawing at his back. My hand grasped at his tightly as he rode out our high, the overwhelming pleasure gradually fading and pulling me back to reality. My body felt foreign under my skin, buzzing with pure bliss and slick with sweat. I looked up at him through lidded eyes. "Mine," he grazed my lips with a warm kiss of satisfaction before sinking back onto the mattress. The silence that ensued was filled with the sounds of our labored breaths, nothing between us but the cloak of darkness. It only lasted a few quiet minutes before his arm snaked around my waist, pulling my still trembling body into him and pressing his lips to my forehead. I knew it was wrong. He was a monument to all of my sins, every single whisper of darkness inside of me. "Again," he whispered, tilting my lips up to his. 

I relinquished to the darkness that night, over and over until my throat was raw from screaming his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lord forgive me for I have sinned 
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)


	32. exceptions are made to every rule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay a couple things 
> 
> 1\. I think I'll make my updating day Sunday just letting you guys know  
> 2\. I've been working on the kanej x alarkling one shot for that text post and im still editing because im not happy with it so hopefully ill get it out this week  
> 3\. I made a tumblr! its darklesmylove (same as my ao3 user) if you have any requests or questions for me feel free to ask  
> 4\. I don't know how I feel about this chapter eek I hope you enjoy 
> 
> okay have fun

The press of lips is what pulled me from the shroud of sleep, the sensation making a sigh involuntarily release from my lungs. My eyes cracked open a sliver, Aleksander's dark curls gradually coming into focus as he continued to taste the skin along the slope of my neck. "Aleks," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with a warm blush at my entirely naked body pressed against his. "Good morning, solnishka," he spoke against my skin, his mouth trailing down my jaw to hover over my own. My eyes fluttered closed as he placed the lightest of kisses against my lips before pulling away. "Tease," I groaned, making him chuckle, his voice still delightfully raspy from sleep.

I struggled to sit up, hissing softly as the movement sent pangs of soreness traveling down my legs. I didn't miss the smug curl of his rosy lips, shooting him an annoyed glare as I propped myself up on my elbows, pulling the sheets up to cover my exposed body. The silence prolonged, both of us falling into our own thoughts. It felt entirely too real now without the cloak of darkness and blinding lust, the actuality of what I had allowed to happen last night sobering me. Something that I had always believed I would have given to Mal, now belonged to Aleksander. It was somehow thrilling and horrible all at once. "Do you regret it," Aleksander broke through my thoughts, his cool voice soft with hesitation. 

Did I? 

"No," I sighed, meeting his quartz eyes, "I think we're past the point of regret, Aleksander." For a moment, he regarded me blankly, the mask so familiar it was almost frightening before it subsequently fell away. He grasped for my hand, intertwining our fingers together against the silken sheets before pulling me closer. I melted into the curve of his body as he kissed me, his hand gentle as he traced my jawline with his fingertips. "You are my light," he mumbled into the kiss, the sheets between us doing nothing to keep my body from heating in response to his touch. "I know," I smiled against his lips. He pulled away, his gaze falling to my chest, making me flush with modesty. "You can't possibly be embarrassed now after those hours underneath me last night," he let a wicked smirk curl his lips. The red flooding my cheeks deepened. His fingers brushed over the necklace fastened around my neck, his eyes tinged with satisfied possessiveness.

"I'd be embarrassed if I kept begging someone to let me fuck them over and over," I hummed in challenge, making him arch a brow in response. A trill of excitement and fear tingled at my fingertips as he leaned down, his lips brushing over the shell of my ear. "I didn't hear you complaining. In fact, the only thing out of your mouth was my name, begging for me, and _saints, Aleksander, I'm going to come, fuck me harder_." A shaky exhale was all I could manage. Wicked satisfaction thrummed across the tether at my reaction. "Again," I breathed. He didn't argue, his lips hot against mine as he proceeded to claim my body as his own.

For the 14th time.

***

Nikolai's P.O.V

"The Fjerdans refuse to cooperate as long as we have Grisha among our ranks," Genya quietly spoke, her eyes cast to the ground as we walked. "And you couldn't find a way to persuade them?" I raised a brow in question. She did seem to have a way with manipulation. "No, they were quite hostile towards me considering they burn my kind for sport," she sarcastically responded. The guards flanking us as we walked through the encampment both tensed at her candor. "The Darkling's alliance with Shu Han only puts us at more of a disadvantage, we need allies," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You don't think Alina is enough? She has three amplifiers, she is more than capable of taking him on," she tilted her head slightly, adjusting her blood red kefta. I nodded, my thoughts already ahead of me, strategizing and calculating.

She was undoubtedly an effective weapon, but that plan remained contingent on her keeping him occupied enough so he couldn't summon his shadow army of monsters. A significant gamble considering the alternative was facing an legion of countless, almost indestructible demons that could easily decimate an army of thousands.

"Niki!"

I was snapped from my thoughts at the sound of Sasha's excited giggles, breaking away from her guard escort to run into my arms. "What have you been up to?" I grinned as she latched onto me, her tiny fingers gripping my bicep and tugging insistently. A paper was crumpled into her palm, which she quickly unfolded, extending her arm to offer it to me. It was a drawing of Alina, me, Sasha, and the Darkling, all holding hands like some sort of crude resemblance of a family. "I made it for Alina, but she's not here," she frowned sadly, her lips curling into a pout. "She's out stopping some bad guys, remember," I moved to crouch to her level, taking the paper hesitantly. Genya snorted softly.

"I heard some people say mean things, I don't think Mr. Darkling is a bad guy, he was nice to me and not even scary," she bit down on her lip, "And he told me he and Alina are going to have a happily ever after. He promised." A ripple of surprise passed through me, my gaze tilting up to meet Genya's. Her expression mirrored my own. "Sometimes we don't have a happily ever after," I worded carefully, making her roll her eyes in response. "That's what Alina said too," she grumbled, snatching the paper back from my hand with childish indignance. A sigh settled deep in my chest. "How about we go get some food," I offered, a laugh escaping my lips as she immediately looked at me from the corner of her eye with newfound interest. "I'll get you some garlic rolls," I goaded with a smirk. Her eyes lit up in excitement. "My favorite!" she cheesed, reaching out and wrapping her arms around my neck tightly. "I knew you couldn't resist me and my delicious food," I picked her up, holding her tightly. Genya rolled her eyes. "May I be excused, Prince Charming," she sarcastically bowed, her red painted lips twisted into a look of mildly annoyed amusement. "Of course, my beautiful advisor," I winked, sending her practically sprinting away in irritated haste. "Food time," Sasha exclaimed, gripping onto my uniform.

I kept the smile plastered on my face despite the hopelessness now coursing through my veins.

If we had lost Alina, the war was already over before it had even began.

***

Alina's P.O.V

"Was this really necessary, Aleks?" I bitterly questioned in distaste, referring to the collection of bruised, purple bite marks littered across the expanse of my neck and breasts. "Absolutely," he evenly responded, though I suspected if I had turned to look at him, there would have been a smug look adorning his lips. My eyes flickered over the love bites one more time before I pulled on my kefta, shifting the high collar with the help of the bathroom mirror so it strategically covered the majority of the marks. When I turned, he was still delightfully unclothed, turned away from me and giving me view of his lean, muscled back. Red, welted scratches ran down the length of it, it seems I had given him a fair share of markings as well. The feeling of satisfaction that coursed through me was startlingly primal. 

Aleksander Morozova was _mine_. 

He shifted a black shirt over his shoulders, turning and meeting my gaze as he buttoned it. "When do we leave for the border?" I cleared my throat, averting my gaze and beginning to twist my long tangled waves into a messy braid. He tilted his head slightly, evaluating me in a painfully obvious manner. "Two days," he finally responded, a purposeful indifference in his stare. "Don't give me that look, Aleksander, I was only asking," I rolled my eyes, tossing the completed white braid over my shoulder before crossing my arms over my chest. He took a few lazy steps forward, closing the distance between our bodies and forcing me look up at him to maintain eye contact. "Have I ever told you that you are the very essence of perfection?" he murmured, his fingertips lifting to ghost over my cheek. I scoffed, swiping his hand from my face and making a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Have I ever told you that you're extremely irritating?" His eyes flickered across the planes of my face, his amusement clear.

"Many, many times," he responded, taking my waist and pulling my body flush against his. I didn't resist as he pressed his lips to mine, soft and brief and surprisingly sweet in the simplicity of it. No underlying lust, no ulterior motive, no greed for power. I let him linger for a moment, my next words a soft mumble. "You know I love you Aleksander, but I won't allow you to kill innocent people any longer. Please don't make me choose." His grip tightened almost imperceptibly. "I won't make you choose," he quietly spoke, not convincing in the slightest. His lips found mine again, a hint of desperation now present in the way he held me.

Reality was starting to set back in. The reality where we would never have simple or easy in a war that divided me so deeply it hurt like a physical pain.

We didn't speak of it again.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

"We will not be aggressive going into the north, if they attack we will retaliate, but no action will be taken before then."

Ivan didn't bother to hide his displease. "Moi tsar, with all due respect, with the use of the Fold we could easily destroy their entire military base just across the border," he dipped his head slightly. Anger sparked at my fingertips. "Questioning me again, Ivan?" I arched a brow. He tensed in unease, swallowing hard as he met my icy stare. I let the shadows collecting in the corners of the room darken just enough to appear sinister. "Of course not, you are the king," he hastily answered. My attention was immediately diverted by Alina's presence as she swept into the throne room, her skirts floating airily around her as she moved through the crowd of Grisha and strode over to my side. The sight of her was like an invisible hand had taken hold of my lungs, squeezing all of the breath out of them. She and Ivan shared a mutual look of distaste before she looked up at me.

"Are we ready to leave?"

I forced myself to refocus. "They just finished loading the coaches," I placed my hand at the small of her back. Ivan glowered, flashing Alina a resentful look before offering a bundle of rolled up papers. "The maps you requested." Alina reached out before I could, plucking it from his grasp and flashing him the most spiteful of smiles. "Thank you Ivan, you're dismissed," she canted her head, waving her fingertips slightly. His hands curled into fists as he swiftly bowed, anger radiating off of him as he stalked away. The feeling that bloomed in my chest was almost sickening in its warmth. In the morning light, she looked ethereal, her silver hair glowing and floating down her golden skin like silk. A goddess. "Aleks-"

Her words were swiftly cut off as I pressed my lips to hers, my fingertips finding her skin as I drank her in like she was the last thing I would ever get to taste. She tensed against me, her delicate palm moving to rest against my chest as she hesitantly kissed me back. I could feel the stares of disbelief from everyone milling around us. I couldn't have possibly cared less. Her lips were soft, so soft, warm and sweet and so-

An involuntary growl formed at the back of my throat when she pulled away, her eyes meeting mine in curiosity. "I thought that affection is a sign of weakness," she batted her eyelashes in an innocent manner. Frustration was not an emotion I often felt, that is, until Alina Starkov had decided to come into my life. I forced the feeling down, my voice retaining the perfect measure of control, "Exceptions are made to every rule, Alina." She laughed, a sound that shot through my veins like a drug, one I couldn't possibly get more addicted too. It was maddening. On some level, I still loathed the feeling, it was an irritating reminder of the complete lack of control I had in the presence of her. Her hand found mine, a bright smile curling the edges of her lips as she looked up at me with breathtakingly golden eyes. "It's time to go," she finally spoke, turning on her heels with a twirl of her ebony skirts and heading towards the palace doors. I found myself shaking my head as I moved to follow her.

The Sun Summoner would surely be the death of me.

***

Alina's P.O.V

It had been nearing a week of travel in the coach, but for once, I didn't mind the long days and entirely too cramped space. Being in Aleksander's arms suddenly made it exponentially easier to tolerate. "Tell me stories," I curled up tighter into the curve of Aleksander's body, making him look up from the journal he was combing through. One of Morozova's. "If you can't tell, I'm reading something, Alina," he coolly replied. A hint of irritation lied in his words, he was very possibly still annoyed from earlier when I had stolen the sugar for his coffee. "Come on, we still have days of travel left, you can finish up later," I pouted, running my fingertips over the back of his hand. He paused, visibly contemplating for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. "What stories do you want to hear, Alina," he closed the book with a snap of the thick, leather bound pages. "Anything about you," I flashed him another dazzling smile, making his silver eyes soften. His tongue trailed over his rosy bottom lip in thought, leaving it glistening with moisture. My body immediately grew hot at the sight. 

_No Alina, don't you dare get excited now, he's about to open up to you. Sex can wait. Sex can wait. Sex can wait._

My inner chastising was cut short when he finally spoke, his hand coming to rest on my leg. "When I first moved to Os Alta, Grisha were still being persecuted," he articulated, a slight crease between his brows, almost as if it were hard to remember. "My mother had taken us there after the outskirts of Ravka started to become more dangerous, anarchic even. At the time, the Sokolov line was still in power, and no one was happy with their rule." My breath caught. The Sokolov line hadn't been ruling in 600 years. "I was still young, not even close to a century yet," he continued, "I spent most of the days wandering the shops and practicing my summoning in the forests at night. My mother would work in the streets to make enough money for us to live off of, because I still looked too young to even be considered for a job. As you can imagine, I avoided our shack of a house so I wouldn't have to watch her entertain her _company_."

Bitterness laced through the words. I chewed on my lower lip. I almost couldn't comprehend a version of Aleksander that wasn't in complete control of everything, an Aleksander that still was practicing his summoning and wandering the streets. My skin crawled with the eeriness of it all.

"I visited a baking shop one day to buy some cinnamon rolls for my mother's birthday, when I met the baker's daughter, a girl named Sasha who was about seven." I felt frozen as my mouth parted in shock. "As much as I desperately didn't want her to, she took a liking to me and started to follow me around more days than not." A wry smile twisted at his lips. "Some way or another I found out she was a Tidemaker. Powerful, too. I taught her how to control her abilities, probably too well. It only took a guard overseeing her playing with the fountain water for them to throw her on the stake." His voice cracked.

Suddenly, it had become painful to swallow, my throat burning as I held back the emotion that had risen at his words. Not even Ravka had been safe for Grisha before he made it so. His thumb grazed over my leg, gliding back and forth over my skin. "You asked me once if I had ever loved anyone," he finally met my gaze, silver eyes pooled with a yawning chasm of pain and anger, "Before you Alina, she was the closest thing I had to love, next to my mother. And they were both killed by worthless otkazat'sya men, when I could have saved them as easily as breathing." I let my hand withdraw from my lap, my fingertips brushing over the hard set of his jawline. "Aleks." His eyes shut, the space between his brows creasing. "I've heard you call me a monster more times than I can count, but before I had wielded any type of power in Os Alta, there was nowhere for our kind. I made that change in our world. And I vowed to never let some otkazat'sya scum kill Grisha ever again. If that makes me a monster, I accepted that truth long ago."

It hurt that he was right, in his own twisted way.

"Decimating an entire country is not the answer," I whispered, my voice so soft it could have been mistaken as a mere exhale. The stroking of his fingers against my skin paused. "There isn't any real answer for what they've done to us, Alina," he growled, the look in his eye almost haunting in its emptiness. "Hey," I touched his cheek, my touch lingering on the smooth, pale skin, "I'm right here. I love you. Let that be enough, at least for now until we figure out what that answer is." There was a split second of hesitation before he nodded, grasping my hand in his and bringing it to his lips to graze a gentle kiss over the back of my knuckles.

"For now."

***

Warmth was gone from the air, dark clouds hanging low over the northern outskirts of Tsibeya. I stepped out from the coach for the first time in the week it had taken to arrive. Aleksander followed close behind, his presence like a living shadow as he drifted his palm down to the small of my back. My gaze travelled around our dismal surroundings in mild horror. The streets were blackened with ash, shops and houses broken down and rebuilt a hundred times over from damage. It seemed as if all of the color had been drained from the landscape, nothing but dull grays and blacks blanketing our surroundings. War had ravaged this village with malicious ease. Oprichniki surrounded us at every angle as all too suddenly there was a hoard of villagers flooding the streets at our arrival.

"Sankta, please!" "Stop this war!" "Save us!"

Most of the pleas were directed towards me, their supposed savior. Aleksander grasped my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep as he pulled me towards what I gathered was the Duke's mansion, the only building large enough to signify any form of wealth. Guards pushed back the villagers, roughly clearing a path for us. My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

"Sankta, please, help my child!"

I caught sight of a mother frantically pushing her crying baby forward in an effort to capture my attention. My feet rooted in place, suddenly I was completely frozen. "Alina." Aleksander's cool voice cut through the noise. "Let me through," I softly ordered to the guards, pulling my arm from Aleksander's grip. The oprichniki stepped aside after I shot them a deathly glare. The woman was crying, her eyes swollen and puffy as she gasped, "Thank you, thank you Sankta, my baby is sick, please help her." I swallowed hard as my gaze settled on her baby swathed in scraps of blankets, flushed with some sort of fever. I was their saint, yet the reality was that I was no more than a girl that had the power of the sun in their hands. I couldn't heal their children, their sick, and here this woman was, desperately begging me to save her child as if I had the ultimate power to choose their fate.

I dimly felt Aleksander grasping for my arm again. I shrugged him off of me, taking another hesitant step forward. The baby's eyes were ice blue, hauntingly familiar to that of Mal. My hands moved of their own accord, light blooming in my palms as I gently placed them against the infant's forehead. It squirmed slightly, but showed no signs of distress as it stared back at me with wide eyes. "Thank you, thank you Sankta!" The mother was openly sobbing as I pulled away. I had done nothing tangible, I had no real blessings to bestow upon these people that revered me. But maybe their blind faith in my power could bring them hope. Maybe that could be enough.

This time Aleksander's grip that closed around my arm was iron in its strength, firmly pulling me back into his side and practically yanking me up the stairs and into the Duke's mansion. "What on earth do you think you're doing," he hissed, his silver eyes blazing with fury as the door slammed behind us. "I couldn't just ignore them and act like I didn't care, I had to do something," I insisted, tensing as his grip on my arm bit roughly into my skin. "You're not a real saint, _Alina_ , you're giving them nothing but false hope," he seethed, for once my name used against me as a mocking, spiteful weapon. A scowl twisted at my lips. "I'm sorry that the people don't see me as an unholy demon like you, I was trying to do some good," I spat. He stilled, a look of such hurt flashing in his eyes that I flinched.

An awkward clearing of a throat made us both quickly turn to see the Duke and his wife staring at us in uneasy reverence. "Duke Petrov, your hospitality is much appreciated," Ivan stepped forward after Aleksander shot him a look of steel. "The appreciation is our own," the Duke immediately responded, dipping forward in a slight bow. "Please have the Sun Summoner shown to our quarters," Aleksander coolly spoke, no sign of lingering anger from our fight betrayed in his voice. I didn't look back, anger and guilt swarming in my chest as I followed a servant up the wooden stairs to our room.

The bed remained cold that night as I slept alone for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)


	33. people must die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man I just love lists lately here ya go
> 
> 1\. go check out my kanej x alarkling one shot its called collision k thanks  
> 2\. I opened up my asks on tumblr for requests, if you have any, feel free to send em in!  
> 3\. ehhhh idk this chapter is not my favorite favorite but there's some cute daddy darkles so that makes up for it hopefully. I want to start editing the next chapter because shit goes DOWNN so be ready for that next week and forgive me for the subpar quality this week 
> 
> enjoy <3

Aleksander's P.O.V

 _Demon_. 

The word leaving her lips had hurt more than any other time I had heard it. 

And that's what infuriated me the most. 

Alina's P.O.V

The atmosphere at the table was tense, to say the least, as we received reports of the damage from the area, the frequency and severity of the attacks, the crumbling economy of the villages on the border, the list was endless. The notes the assigned Grisha was taking soon dissolved into stacks upon stacks of documents spilling out over the table. And all the while, Aleksander refused to look at me, not even acknowledging my presence. "Moi tsar, with all due respect, if we don't find a solution there will be nothing of us left within the month," the village leader was practically trembling as he spoke, avoiding eye contact with either of us. My heart twisted in my chest. "I am well aware," Aleksander spoke so coldly I was tempted to slap him. "What he means to say, is that we are weighing our options right now for how to best protect your village," I attempted to give the man a reassuring smile, when I knew it most definitely resembled more of a pained grimace.

It was slight, but I noticed Aleksander's fingers tighten with tension, something ugly flashing in his eyes for the briefest of moments before it vanished.

"The border is being fortified, you are dismissed if you have no actual intelligence to report on the Fjerdans," he uttered emotionlessly, his fingers lazily lifting from the table and motioning to the oprichniki to see him out. I scowled, watching him get escorted from the room with white hot fire burning through my veins. As soon as he was gone my hands slammed against the table loudly, blinding anger making me shoot up from my chair. Did he have a complete lack of a single empathetic bone in his whole fucking body?

"What is the point of this, Aleksander, to stroke your ego?" I snapped, my fingernails sinking into the wood as I leaned forward. He reclined in his chair, the perfect epitome of control in the face of my fury. Even sitting, he seemed a foot taller than me, his blank silver eyes lazily drifting to meet my gaze. "Obviously." The laconic answer made me grind my teeth together in frustration. "Defend yourself like a fucking adult, Aleksander, god knows you're old enough to act like one," I seethed. He held onto his deadly calm, his fingers moving to rest against the corner of his lips, "I'm just dying to know, why do you even love me anyways, Alina? You've made it clear I'm nothing more than an immature, psychotic _monster_." Every word that left his lips dripped with a heavy mixture of sarcasm and venom. I resisted the wild urge to scream, I wanted to rip every last follicle of my hair out in frustration. "Don't you dare turn my words against me when you know you've earned every single one of those at some point along your deranged, obsessed path for world domination."

His eyes darkened, hot liquid pools of mercury that pierced through my very soul. The silence that ensued was deadlier than any response he could have spoken aloud.

The air crackled with the intensity of barely restrained power.

"I can't love a man with no humanity left."

I suddenly felt so completely and utterly tired, my shoulders sagging with the exhaustion of it all. It seemed like I spent the majority of our waking hours begging and forcing him to be a better person. "And you assumed that I did have some at one point?" he pushed his chair back with a perfectly angled kick of his heel against the wooden leg, standing up to his full, intimidating height. This, this was one of the times when I feared him the most. Cold, emotionless, devoid of any of the warmth I had only ever seem him exhibit towards a select few. Not the Aleksander I was so desperately in love with. "I know you do, Aleks," I sighed, my gaze dropping to his slender fingers that were tight with tension. He was so close I could feel the soft, stilted brush of his breath hitting my skin, which did nothing for the current tangled mess of emotions that was greedily draining all of the life from my body.

"You may not believe it, but I want what's best for Ravka," he coldly insisted, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as well as me. "Ravka includes these villagers that you don't seem to care about in the slightest, unless you actually mean what's best for yourself, not the country." Anger suddenly hummed across our connection, rising to match mine. " _I_ am the best thing for Ravka," he clenched his teeth around the words, his frustration starting to become more apparent. My anger had faded now into something akin to a desperate need, I didn't have to strength to fight him. I just wanted him to see what I saw in him, the man that I was in love with that was better than this.

"You will make the country powerful, but you will allow the people to crumble into dust in the process," I softly spoke, "Countless innocents will be slaughtered at your hand because of your stubbornness." The indifferent mask pulled back over his features as his shoulders lifted in a mocking shrug-like gesture. "People must die for progress to be made." My mouth was bitter, it was nauseating, to say the very least. How could he be so cruel?

I allowed a pause, my thoughts quieting for a moment. "Tell me Aleksander, would you say the same if I died due to your meaningless war?"

His head tilted slightly at the words, something unfathomably dark flashing in his eyes. Then, slowly, as if he was seeing something for the first time, I saw the words process, finally being taken into full consideration, whereas in the past he would brush them off akin to a speck of dirt on his clothes. The silence prolonged. Finally, agonizingly slowly, he spoke. "I... see your point, Alina," he tightly worded, as if it physically pained him to concede some ground in this never ending fight between us. My knees almost buckled from underneath me with something like relief, most likely coupled with my overwhelming exhaustion. With a soft exhale, I leaned forward, allowing my forehead to fall against his chest. His body tensed underneath me for a split second, lean muscles coiled in surprise, before he relaxed, his arms curving around my waist to pull me closer into him. "I don't think of you as a monster, Aleksander," I mumbled. Guilt was still slithering through my veins at the memory of my harsh words from yesterday. His grip tightened around me, as if he wasn't entirely sure I was actually here in his arms. "Thank you." The surprise in his voice was tangible, it was as if he had never heard anyone call him anything but the word.

There was light within his darkness, and I was only just amidst the beginnings of pulling it out of him.

***

"I'm going to visit the orphanage," I attempted to keep my words light as I clasped a thick velvet kefta around my neck. The conflict between us had alleviated somewhat after our argument yesterday, but there was still an unspoken tension that hung heavy over the room. He looked up from his mess of documents, eyes searching mine, most likely for a sign of insincerity. "I'm not going off to take command of the army, saints," I rolled my eyes, making him let out a quiet scoff. "I wouldn't be surprised," he arched a brow, shuffling his papers in his lap to realign them before standing up from the ornately decorated chair he'd been stoically sitting in for the past hour. "Would you like to come?" I tilted my head slightly, a touch of mocking in the question.

His fingers twitched at his sides, carefully analyzing my words like I had just said something certifiably insane.

"Okay, I know you're not going to let me out of your sight, just hurry up," I rolled my eyes, moving to stuff my feet into my boots. He grumbled under his breath just softly enough that I couldn't quite make out the words, striding to the closet and pulling out a freshly pressed kefta. His eyes cast down to the floor, seemingly deep in thought as he shrugged on the heavy black material over his lean shoulders. My fingers curled around the cold metal of the doorknob, pushing the heavy wooden door open. "Please, take your time," I arched a brow, making him look up at me in surprise, as if he forgot I was standing right there. "Patience is a virtue," he sarcastically smiled, pulling on a pair of expensive black gloves as he followed me out of the room.

The vast house was unnaturally quiet as we descended the flight of creaking, wooden stairs. "I sent the soldiers out to patrol the border," Aleksander toned casually, as if he had read my thoughts. My teeth clenched together reflexively. Why he continued to exclude me from his decisions and act like I wasn't his equal was beyond me. "Good idea," I tightly spoke, restraining myself from starting another argument. His exhale was one of spiteful amusement, he knew exactly what he was doing. I swung the front door open, immediately met with a blast of wind that carried an icy chill. It pierced through my kefta easily, already settling deep into my bones. I stuffed my hands under my shirt as Aleksander motioned to the two oprichniki guarding the door to follow us. They moved liked Aleksander's shadows, trailing us without a word. We walked in silence, the streets barren, presumably from orders to stay safely inside while Fjerdan attacks were imminent. My teeth began to chatter as the gusts of wind strengthened, beating relentlessly against my kefta. Aleksander's stare was heavy as we walked, I could sense he was contemplating something.

"This is why you bring a coat."

A snappy reply was at the tip of my tongue, but quickly silenced when his hand curled around my arm, pulling me into his side and immediately enveloping me in his warmth. Of all the times his skin was ice cold, in the frigid weather suddenly he somehow radiated heat. "I don't need your help, you know, I could easily summon," I mumbled despite my lack of resistance. He chuckled softly; we both know I wasn't stupid enough to give away my location and risk getting killed by a silent Fjerdan assassin. "I know you don't need me Alina, I think you've made that quite clear." Even with my head buried into his side, I could tell he was smiling.

And suddenly, it was like an invisible weight had miraculously lifted, the remnants of the tension between us falling away.

We settled back into silence, allowing the sound of crunching of gravel underfoot to fill the air. A strange sadness settled into my bones right alongside the icy chill as my attention moved to observe our surroundings. This is not how an innocent village was supposed to look. No children laughing and playing, no shops set up in the streets. It was a somber, familiar reminder that war was ugly. And a large majority of the time Aleksander and I didn't see the half of it from our comfortable view atop our gilded thrones. I almost startled as I realized were now standing in front of the orphanage door, Aleksander expectantly looking at me. "Well?"

I shot him a look, my arm lifting to knock. I hesitated before looking back at him. "Behave." He snorted. My fingers were stiff with cold as I rapped my knuckles against the thick wood, quickly stepping back and rubbing my hands together to regain some circulation. It only took a few seconds before the door opened, revealing an old woman not unlike Ana Kuya. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of us. "We're here to visit the children," I warmly smiled, knowing it did little to negate Aleksander's ever intimidating presence. "C-come inside, please moi soveryeni," she stammered, stepping aside quickly so we could enter. The warm rush of air that washed over my skin as we entered was enough to make me hum softly in relief. The common room was filled to capacity with kids, young and old. It left a dull ache in my chest at the bitter familiarity of it all.

"Children!" The old woman's voice was sharp, quickly quieting the sounds of their play and bringing their attention to me and Aleksander. "No please, carry on, we're here to come spend time with you all," I grinned at their gaping mouths. A beat of silence ensued before, hesitantly, they resumed their wide array of activities, adorable laughs and voices filling the air. Strangely, it felt like home, like I was back in Keramzin, ready to play hide and seek with Mal and cause trouble. A young girl immediately approached me, tugging on my skirts in excitement, "Come play tag with us, Sankta!" I took her small hand, glancing back at Aleksander. His expression was almost comical in how completely lost he looked. "Have fun!" I cheesed, letting myself be pulled away.

It had to have been hours before I remembered to think of Aleksander again. A young girl by the name of Natalia was sitting in my lap, another girl standing behind me twisting my hair into a long, tangled braid as I told stories to the circle of wide eyed children. "And finally I came out of hiding and scared him, and he screamed so loud!" I grinned as I finished the ending of the story I had been retelling, one of the many times I had scared Mal while playing hide and seek. "I have a story, I have a story!" A little boy raised his hand with insistent enthusiasm, clapping his hands together in excitement when I made a motion for him to go ahead. My gaze wandered across the room, finally settling on Aleksander sitting in front of the fireplace. He was across the table from a small, quiet boy playing chess, a surprising hint of something paternal in the interaction as he presumably taught him how to play the game.

The warmth that bloomed in my chest at the sight was enough to bring me to my feet, shifting Natalia from my lap as I brushed myself off. "Can I come with you?" she looked up at me, her voice small. My heart ached painfully at the likeness to Sasha. "Of course, let's go say hi to Mr. Grumpy Pants over there," I grinned, playfully motioning in Aleksander's direction. She giggled before quickly clapping a pudgy hand over her mouth in realization that she had just laughed at a joke about the king, technically one of the highest treasons. A dim memory flickered to mind of my exact same reaction when Aleksander and Genya had slandered the king when I had first arrived at Os Alta. "Don't worry, he doesn't have super hearing," I assured in amusement, taking her tiny hand in my own.

She gripped me tightly as I made my way through the thick of laughing children over to the corner. The wood was cold underneath my fingers as I leaned against the table. "Who's winning?" I asked brightly, finally making them both look up at me for the first time. "Obviously me," Aleksander snorted, moving a knight and promptly capturing the young boy's queen as if to prove his point. The boy curled his lip slightly into a disgruntled pout, moving one of his last pawns to protect his king as he affirmed, "13 to 0." I almost snorted. Typical Aleksander, not even putting his ego to the side for a second to let a kid win at chess. Natalia let go of my hand, bouncing over to his side, "You can do it, Mikhail!" His attention flickered to her, his eyes rolling as he allowed her to wiggle under his arm, wrapping around his torso. Now that she was snuggled against him, I recognized their likeness immediately. Dark hair, deep brown eyes, olive skin. Probably Suli, if I had to guess. Aleksander moved his queen again, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips, "Checkmate." Mikhail stared at the board in disbelief for a second before letting out a defeated sigh. "Again?" he looked up hopefully, absentmindedly pushing away Natalia's hand that was insistently grabbing at his shirt. Aleksander glanced at me, a rare, genuine smile on his lips. "Set it back up then," he gestured his hand in invitation, leaning back in his chair.

Half an hour later they were still playing, Natalia curled in my lap as we sat and watched with the warmth of the fireplace at our backs. "Mikhail, move your queen to take his rook," I commented mildly, making Aleksander narrow his eyes. "That's cheating, Alina." I shrugged, smiling smugly as Mikhail completed the move with a quiet air of triumph. "I miss mommy," Natalia suddenly spoke, making me startle. I had long ago thought she had fallen asleep, what with her extended period of silence. My teeth found my lower lip, biting down painfully before I brought myself to ask, "What happened to her?" Mikhail answered before she could, his tone dry and impossibly blunt, "Our parents died a month ago in a Fjerdan attack. Blown to bits." I swallowed hard as Natalia clutched at my shirt, burying her face in the nape of my neck. My eyes met Aleksander's, who looked uncharacteristically shocked.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, the words seeming utterly useless even as I said them. "A natural side affect of war, right?" Mikhail smiled bitterly with the tiredness of someone beyond his years, his eyes never leaving the chess board as he moved a pawn. I could feel Aleksander's tenseness, we both knew he constantly preached the phrase to justify his decisions. But it was different, seeing the consequences of your actions in the flesh, up close and so, terribly ugly in its reality. "But it's okay, because you're here now, Sankta, and you'll make it all better," Natalia murmured, warm fingers curling around my arm as she started to drift off. My mouth was thick with guilt as I held her close.

Aleksander's P.O.V

Alina had been asleep for quite awhile when Mikhail finally gave up, grumbling a dejected, "You win." I studied him for a second, a peculiar feeling pushing me to respond. "I've had a while to practice, you will be good too if you do so as well." He tilted his head up slightly, dark hair falling into his eyes that held the barest glimmer of hope. "You think?" I nodded slowly, my gaze flickering to Alina. "But tonight, I must be going," I stood up, grabbing my kefta that I had hung on the back of the chair. "Well, thank you, for teaching me," he cast his eyes down to the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously. Again, that peculiar feeling. "You're welcome," I spoke despite myself.

When was the last time _that_ phrase had left my lips?

Quickly, I moved to Alina, placing my hand on her bare shoulder, warm to the touch from sitting in front of the blazing fire for so long. "Alina, its time to go," I softly nudged her, she stirred, but her eyes remained closed. "Come on, solnishka," I tucked a silky piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen into her face. There was a moment of silence before she spoke in a hoarse whisper, still refusing to open her eyes. "Carry me." A sigh escaped my lips. Sliding my arm underneath her legs, I secured my grip at her lower back, lifting her from the chair with ease. She was still almost frighteningly light, I really needed to get her to eat more. Immediately, she gravitated towards my chest, her head falling to rest against my collarbone. The feeling was even stranger than the previous one I had experienced as the children chorused cheerful goodbyes when I passed them on the way out the front door.

Maybe this is what it felt liked to be loved by your people.

When I nudged the door open with my foot, both oprichniki were still as present as ever, bowing to me before silently following me onto the darkened streets. Something like guilt clawed at my insides as we walked. Half of the orphans in that house were most likely there due to war, to the war that I commanded. Sacrifice had to be made, and death was necessary for progress.

_At least, that is what he kept telling himself over and over during the long walk back with the woman who loved him fast asleep in his arms._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)
> 
> edit: its 2 minutes later and ew I hate it I might go back and edit it again im sorry


	34. is that a challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a disclaimer: I'm heading back into school and so I seriously don't know if I'll be able to keep to my updating schedule. I promise its not because im dead. and if you want to check if im dead send me an ask/message on tumblr and I will confirm to you that im not dead. except if I don't respond then I am actually dead. okay enough of that lol
> 
> this is going up a lot later than I expected because I'm still recovering from a music festival and I'm also packing and the time just got away from me. I'm sorry for making you wait but its worth it *I think* because I like this chapter a lottt more. also thank you all for continuing to support!! ive been getting a little emotional lately because im almost done with the rough draft of the end and wow its insanity. anyway, here's some more smut and angst thrown at you, have fun hehe
> 
> enjoy <3

"Wake up, solnishka."

A soft groan fell from my lips as I turned over, burying my face in the cold darkness of my pillow. "Alina, come on," he insisted with a tone of such affectionate amusement I flushed, even still half asleep. "Make me," I mumbled, my fingers digging into the sheets as I hugged them more tightly around me. Almost immediately, I felt the air around him change, the tether burning with something primal.

"Is that a challenge, Alina?"

The mattress dipped under his weight as he had somehow come to hover on top of me, a hand pressed on either side of my body. My eyes peeled open, meeting his silver gaze, hot in a way that made my toes curl with lust. "Depends on if you're up for it." My cheeks grew warm as soon as I spoke the words aloud. Where did my self control, and furthermore, my sense of shame suddenly disappear to? His eyes roved over my body clad in nothing but a thin, silken nightgown, making me feel as if suddenly I had nothing on. "I think you should be the one worried if you're _up for it_ ," he almost purred, his fingertips finding the mesh hem of the garment.

It was futile, trying to win a battle like this one with him.

My breaths were already frustratingly labored as he teased at the bottom of my nightgown, his free hand tracing lazy circles around the flesh of my thighs. I gritted my teeth. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm, even if my body was already screaming and begging for his touch. His cool hand splayed out against the curve of my waist as, achingly slowly, he curled the thin mesh from where it rested on my legs all the way up to my stomach, his fingertips trailing across my skin and leaving a burning path wherever they touched. I bit down hard on my lower lip to swallow the whimper struggling to break free. "You look a little uncomfortable, Alina, whats wrong?" he questioned with wicked innocence, tilting his head ever so slightly before leaning forward so his soft, full lips were just barely hovering over my own.

Saints, damn him. Every inch of me ached.

"Nothing at all," I tightly responded, fisting the sheets tightly in my grasp. He tilted his head to the side, a smirk flickering across his lips as he pulled away slightly. My eyes unwillingly fluttered closed as he slid his hands underneath my nightgown and up along my torso, gliding over my breasts so teasingly light I let out a sharp exhale. "What do you think I'll find when my hand finds its away in between your legs?" he mused, making my jaw clench with restraint. "Find out for yourself." He arched a brow at my reply. I would never admit to him out loud that my thighs were slick with wetness, almost unbearably, an ache throbbing in my core that was maddening.

"Not very saintly, _Sankta Alina_."

The red in my cheeks heated even more as the wicked curve to his lips deepened. The path of his fingers down my stomach made my back arch instinctively, my hips lifting towards his touch. "Aleksander," I breathed, his name falling from my lips before I could stop it. His index finger twisted the band of my panties, slipping them down my legs at a painfully slow pace. The lacy fabric ghosted over my skin before they were promptly tossed to the side. My teeth clenched as he pulled my legs apart with a firm tug, a swipe of his slender fingers along my inner thigh leaving them glistening with wetness. I couldn't help myself, I whimpered, grasping for his hand tightly. "What would you like me to do, Alina?" he paused, canting his head as his gaze drifted over me already trembling underneath his touch, even when he hadn't even _really_ touched me yet. "Whatever you want to do to me," I whispered, almost melting away under the intensity of his stare.

He chuckled darkly, the laugh as smooth as silk. His hand flicked, swirls of shadows materializing in front of my eyes before, suddenly, the world was plunged into darkness. My fingers shot to my face, a measure of both terror and thrill tingling throughout my body as I felt the cool brush of shadows obstructing my vision like that of a blindfold.

"You're a monster." My words were hoarse, despite the inherent sarcasm to them, my breath hitching as I felt the shock of his lips against the inside of my leg, leaving a trail of heated marks as he worked his way closer to my core. I was trembling, the slow torture of anticipation steadily working to destroy any resolve I had to resist. A whimper formed at my lips as suddenly, the feeling of his breath was maddeningly apparent now hovering over my sex, sending a shockwave of electricity through me. "Please," I begged, not caring anymore that my willpower was pathetically weak. Every inch of me strained towards him, reaching out for him in the blinding cloak of his darkness.

"My name, Alina."

I didn't hesitate. "Please, Aleksander, I need you."

When his lips finally parted against me, the wave of pleasure that washed over me was so overwhelmingly pleasurable I cried out. "Shhh," he hummed against my sex, a moan falling from my lips at the sensation. His tongue, _his tongue_ , nothing else mattered but his saints forsaken tongue as it glided through my folds, making my body writhe and twist underneath him. My hands were everywhere, digging into the sheets, then buried in his hair, then curled over my lips as I desperately worked to stifle the sounds pouring from my mouth, some soft and muted and others obscene in their volume. His teeth grazed my clit, making my eyes roll back with a string of breathy curses. Another nip, then a soft tug that made me whimper, my hips reflexively bucking upward to meet him.

The darkness blinding me made it all that much more terrifyingly arousing, not knowing were his lips and tongue and teeth would land next. The shame of it all paled in comparison to the feeling running through my veins, as hot as the burn of kvas and a hundred times more electrifying.

"Saints, Aleksander." His lips curled into a smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing, every twirl and flick and swipe of his tongue perfectly calculated, riding my waves of pleasure with an expert rhythm. Time was nothing, I could have stayed in that bed for forever, with the feeling of him between my legs, pulling every possible scrap of pure ecstasy from within me with ease. My breaths were nothing but muffled pants and wails and saints, every damn heartbeat was his to claim.

I was shaking now, my release achingly close as his tongue continued to swirl against me in a circular movement, matching the rhythm of my hips wildly jerking whenever he hit the right spot. His fingers dug into the flesh of my thighs, pinning me down to the sheets to subdue the involuntary movement. "Be quiet solnishka," he drew away for a moment to speak. I tensed as suddenly the darkness obstructing my vision dissipated, his lips colliding against mine in a burning kiss. My own taste on his tongue elicited an uncontrollable moan that scraped at the back of my throat, quickly captured by his mouth over my own. Before I could so much as catch my breath, the kiss was gone, the brush of his lips back to between my legs in renewed, sweet torture. My teeth sunk into my lower lip, my back arching off of the mattress at every languorous circle of his tongue, now pulling me dangerously close to the edge. "Saints, I love you Aleks, let me, _let me_ ," I begged, my fingernails digging and scraping against his scalp as my lips parted, my release so unbearably close every inch of my skin was burning with a soft glow. My body moved against him of its own accord, responding to his every silent command as if I belonged to him. He hummed softly against my sex, the vibration sending a shockwave throughout my body. The heat had quickly built, my legs trembling as I clenched them around him, the sensation burning like the heat of a wildfire and-

I crashed over the edge into the waiting flood of pleasure, my eyes rolling back as his name left my lips like I knew no other name in the universe. The world was a haze, the waves of pleasure cresting and spilling through my body as he prolonged my orgasm, drawing every last possible inch out of me. Slowly, I began to come back down, my skin buzzing with the remnants of my high. My fingers unwound from the thick strands of his soft hair, my hands falling back against the sheets in exhaustion. He pressed a warm kiss to my hip bone before lifting his head. My gaze fastened to his silver one, my lips parting with soft pants, his eyes dark and hungry in their depths as he took in the sight of me. "Does your tracker make you feel this way? Your sobachka?" There was something angry and spiteful to his words, but there was nothing left in me to resist as my response fell from my lips. "No, only you, Aleksander." His mouth met mine in satisfied response.

It was in that moment, as his hand desperately grasped for mine over the sheets, that I realized he truly needed me, maybe even more than I needed him.

This was my eternity, he was my eternity. And I could only hope that it wouldn't be one filled with bloodshed and war, because our fate was up to him now, with my heart held tightly in his grasp.

***

Just as the silence had been when we had previously arrived, there was something eerie about the newfound liveliness to the streets, now bustling with market sellers and children running wild with freedom. It was safe to guess the former threat of a Fjerdan attack had been called off, the villagers taking full advantage of not being under lockdown anymore. Two oprichniki shadowed us as Aleksander and I walked through the streets, taking in the sight with silent, watchful eyes. It reminded me of home once again, of the grim energy that hung over Keramzin like a dark cloud. No one was truly happy, but it was easier to try and pretend that everything was okay until misfortune and death themselves were knocking down your door. I followed Aleksander's gaze, which was trained on a merchant selling withered produce. "What's on your mind," I questioned softly, watching as the weak breeze ruffled his immaculate hair just slightly. He blinked several times in quick succession, as if dispelling a dream, his eyes gradually focusing on me. "My mother used to work and sell on these streets when we lived here briefly. Clothes she'd sewn by hand." I stifled my snort of disbelief. It was hard to imagine Baghra doing anything but complaining and smacking me with her damned stick.

Despite the lack of fondness at the memory, it still sent a pang of sadness and longing through me. Those days training in her hut, though frustrating, had undeniably been simpler times. Times where the fate of multiple countries didn't rest squarely on my shoulders.

"Was she any good?" I asked mildly, my fingers twisting within the insides of my thick kefta sleeves. His lips quirked ever so slightly. "She only ever worked in black, but she was good, yes," he worded in thoughtful amusement. "That's where you got your depressing aesthetic from then?" I raised a brow, pressing my lips together to keep myself from laughing. He rolled his eyes. "Black is a color of power, would you prefer I wore pink?" This time I did laugh, my hand immediately flying up to my mouth to stifle the sound. Several villagers fastened their eyes to us at the noise. "I would absolutely prefer that, Aleks," I grinned, making the corner of his lips pull upward ever so slightly.

The looked vanished in a second as his footsteps stilled, something dark in his eyes.

"Alina, get down!"

I registered the wild panic in his cry a split second before the world exploded into a haze of bullets.

His body crashed on top of mine, shielding me from the slew of gunshots that were sparking against the cobblestones around us. Screams were echoing through the streets, the village erupted with chaos, suddenly in the midst of a Fjerdan attack. It seemed as if the men in gaudy soldiers uniforms had appeared from out of thin air, flooding the roads and opening fire on the civilians. "Aleksander!" I struggled against his weight, "Do something, they're dying!" It was true. Bodies already littered the streets, blood painting the stones like some sort of twisted, gruesome painting. He made a gesture with his fingers, and suddenly a hoard of nichevo'ya materialized out of the shadows, swooping down from the skies and beginning to pick off enemy soldiers with outstretched claws.

For once, I was glad to see the unearthly monsters, considering they were on my side this time.

A horrible feeling suddenly clenched in the pits of my stomach, my hand grasping for Aleksander's arm as he sent the Cut flying through a soldier barreling towards us. "We have to go protect the children," I breathlessly spoke, panic laboring my breaths, my pulse roaring in my ears. It was right then that fire suddenly exploded along the rooftops, alighting across the long rows of buildings and houses packed together. Including the orphanage. My feet began the sprint towards the wreckage before I could even think, screams and cries of anguish increasing in intensity at the newfound destruction, flames eagerly devouring the crumbling foundations of the buildings. Bullets whizzed past me, so close I could feel their heat lick over my skin.

A hand closed over my arm, yanking me backwards, too rough to be Aleksander's. "Demjin!" the Fjerdan spat, the flash of his blade glinting in the light as he wielded it. My hand moved in a deadly arc, in a flash of cold light he was in pieces on the ground. Another hand clamped around my bicep, then another, two brutish soldiers on me. A defiant cry left my lips as they clamped my wrists together, the cold barrel of a pistol pressing into my forehead. Inky black claws appeared from above, seizing them by the shoulders and ripping them to shreds. I fought the sickening urge to vomit, whirling on my heels and sprinting to the doorstep of the orphanage. Children flooded out of the wreckage, skin blackened with soot as they cried hysterically in fear, all pure chaos and terror.

Three Fjerdans were making straight for the mass of vulnerable children.

Without even thinking, I sent a burning beam of light through the bodies of all three soldiers, they dissolved into flames in a blink.

My eyes desperately searched for Natalia and Mikhail, my lungs constricting. They weren't here.

Aleksander had caught up to me, his dark curls a mess and a streak of black ash painted across his pale cheek. His hand was pressed into his ribs, a bullet had somehow managed to graze his side, a mild flow of dark blood leaking through his fingers. "Their numbers are dwindling, they'll be retreating soon," he lifted a hand, not even bothering to look at the Fjerdan charging him from behind, shadows appearing and slithering down the soldier's throat. The man stopped dead in his tracks, shrieking as he clawed at his lips. In the span of a few seconds, he had collapsed to the ground, convulsing as darkness bled through his veins. And then he was dead. Aleksander's hand dropped, his eyes casting up to the skies at his nichevo'ya circling, picking off the last few Fjerdans that were stupid enough not to flee.

We had been outnumbered a hundred to one, and yet in the span of minutes, between me, Aleksander, and the nichevo'ya, we had slaughtered their forces as easily as breathing.

The fight was over.

And then, I saw her.

The frail body of a child crumpled on the ground, the form of her brother kneeling next to her as he screamed helplessly. "Natalia!" I cried in horror, pushing through the crowd of children and falling to her side. She was crying, holding a gash in her torso that was bleeding out all over the cobblestones. "It's okay Nat, oh saints," Mikhail sobbed, fingers scrabbling over her side in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. "Get me a healer, now!" I screamed to no one in particular, tears rushing to my eyes as she clutched at Mikhail's hand for comfort. My heart twisted when she whimpered, looking up at me through blurry eyes. "I don't want to die, Sankta, please," she pleaded, true fear drowning in her blue eyes as she desperately looked to me, her saint, one that couldn't even do anything to help save her. The flash of Corporalki red made a painful sob of relief escape my lips. "You're going to be okay, Natalia, I promise," I insisted, smoothing back the hair from her clammy forehead. She nodded, her lip quivering as I backed away to give the healer room to work. The guilt was thick in my mouth as I found Aleksander's gaze, his skin even paler than normal as he blankly looked down at her. Anger washed over me in a wild current.

"This is your war, Aleksander," I spat, the words horribly bitter on my tongue, my hands clenching.

"Alina-"

"No," I cut him off. He blinked in surprise. "Think about it all, and tell me you can live with it. Tell me you can continue to sacrifice innocent lives for the sake of your ego. Because that is a true monster."

I stalked away.

***

Aleksander hissed as I pressed a damp rag into his side, roughly cleaning the dried blood from the mild graze the bullet had tracked through his pale skin. "Be quiet," I tightly spoke, a tangle of anger and guilt and worry making my movement tense as I cleaned out the tiny flecks of metal speckling the wound. The muscles in his jaw feathered as he stubbornly clenched his teeth, knuckles white as he gripped the sides of his chair. Seeing as there had been many life threatening injuries, the healer had been preoccupied with saving villagers, leaving me to be Aleksander's doctor in the meantime.

I swiped the rag one last time over his skin, admittedly a tad too roughly. "Saints, Alina," he snapped, wincing as his hands shot to his side instinctively. I fought the urge to check if he was okay, throwing the bloody towel into a crumpled heap next to his knee as I stood up, moving to the large window taking up the majority of the bedroom wall. Corporalki Healers in red stood out like drops of blood against the gray streets, tending to the crowds of injured. I felt Aleksander's presence move to behind me, a kefta now shrugged over his shoulders, his eyes following mine to the people milling the courtyard down below.

"What are you thinking."

There was a surprising trepidation to his words underneath the usual controlled calm. My grip tightened at the windowsill, my knuckles whitening with tension. "For someone so perceptive, you seem to ask that question a lot, Aleksander," I bit out, "Why don't you take a wild guess." He placed his hand next to mine on the sill, a cautious movement. His pale, slender fingers looked almost pure white next to my golden ones.

"Innocents died because of me. Again."

Bitterness tasted like an old, acetous friend on my tongue. "Your intelligence is unparalleled, Aleksander," I smiled mirthlessly, turning away. His grip captured my wrist, gentle but still firm in its strength. "They did this, Alina, not me," he insisted, "This is why I have to wage this war." His touch burned like a hot spark. "The war you started in the first place?" My voice was already thick with emotion, tears brimming at the edge of my vision as I looked up at him, "What about West Ravka then, and Nikolai? Don't blame this on anyone else but yourself, Aleks. You did this. All of this fucking insanity is because of you, Mal and your mother and the Fold and... and fuck me because somehow I still love you." The tears were hot, unrelenting, wildly spilling down my cheeks without restraint. I could see him considering my words, his gaze following a tear as it traced down my burning skin. "What do you want me to do, Alina?" His eyes had gone hard, iron clad walls slamming down in defense. "Let go of your fucking control for one second, if you ever cared about me in any way, just try to see beyond your own narrow mind for saints sake." The mask slipped, his eyes flashing at my words. "How could you doubt that I care about you?" he pulled me closer. His grip was still at my wrist, his fingertips pressing into my palm.

Foolish Alina.

I looked away, trying to pull my arm free. He held fast. "Alina," he insisted, the way my name left his lips was as if he worshipped it, like the taste alone would give him salvation. My lungs constricted. "You haven't said it back to me," I whispered. 

He stilled.

"I haven't said..." His words died. I swiped away at my tears with the back of my hand, shame burning at my cheeks. Weak Alina. Needy Alina. Stupid fucking delusional traitorous Alina. My throat felt like I had just swallowed a generous amount of hot coals.

"Alina, I..." He looked away, then back at me. Away, then back again. His grip tightened, then loosened, the muscles at his jaw constricting.

"I've given you everything, Aleksander. Do you think my friends will even so much as look at me for what I've done? You mutilated Genya, you killed Zoya's family, you almost ripped Nikolai to shreds! All I'm asking from you is just to give me this, at the very least." The words tasted especially sour on my tongue in their bitter truth. Aleksander looked as if I had slapped him across the face. Strangely, his breaths were labored, shallow, his dark lashes casting long shadows down his face when he looked down. "I can't say it," he spoke quietly, "I can't, Alina. But, the way I feel about you?" Finally, _finally_ , he met my gaze, something alight in his eyes that took my breath away.

"I _feel_ when I'm with you, like I'm human again, I feel like... like I can be a better man for you. I feel like I can rebuild every single disgusting piece of myself and this country so I can convince you to stay by my side for the rest of our lives. You are my light in the darkness, the breath in my lungs, my everything. The _only_ thing." He swallowed hard. "And I'm too weak, but I'll spend every day fighting to be strong enough to say those words to you. I promise on my mother that I'll say those words to you. And I'll spend every day proving to you that I deserve you saying them to me. I-I want to be the man that deserves you." Every word seemed to tighten the invisible claw clutching at my lungs, I could hardly breath. Impulsively, I moved closer to him, feeling the soft press of his kefta against my palm.

"Then stop this. All of this. Please." I was practically begging, I would have sunk to my knees on the hard floor if it meant making him see reason. He twisted his fingers through mine, his grip tightening. "What do you want me to do, Alina," he breathed, the spite now gone from the question. The light caught the silver of his eyes as he met my stare. "Compromise. I'm not telling you to give up all of your power, I know how hard you worked to get to where you are to protect the Grisha. I'm asking you to be open to negotiations with Nikolai. Make an effort to treaty with Fjerda. Don't let people die just for the sake of dying." He stiffened, his back straightening just slightly. As if just hearing the words aloud made him want to physically recoil away from the very idea.

The silence was deafening.

"I'll consider it, Alina," he toned. It was a careful promise, a calculated promise. But it seemed for the first time, he actually meant it. I let the barest hint of a smile graze my lips. "Thank you Aleksander," I paused, after a brief moment, softly adding, "I love you." He pulled me against him, fingers digging into the small of my back as he crushed his mouth against mine. Yes, he hadn't told me the words himself, but now it was apparent this was his way of silently telling me he felt the same. I felt the corner of my lips quirk upward ever so slightly. He pulled away, his mouth lingering over mine. "What is it, Alina?"

"You're getting blood on my clothes."

It felt like the first time we had laughed together in an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even end this chapter on an angsty note like I was originally going to you're so very welcome 
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, its what inspires me to keep writing :)


	35. i've been thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres my surprise, early update! seeing as I won't be able to update Sunday, I decided to give it to you guys before all of my school craziness starts. hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> p.s. I am almost done with writing Heart of Darkness. sad writer is sad. :((
> 
> also quick shoutout to the person who made an edit for hod on instagram, that was sick lol I feel famous hehe

Nikolai's P.O.V

"We need to start mobilizing," I determined, leaning back in my chair at a near precarious angle. 

Living life on the edge was absolutely thrilling. 

Tolya and Tamar sat before me with a level of relaxation only those apart of Sturmhond's crew would dare to enjoy, Tamar's axe leaned up against the wall as she stretched her limbs out like a feline, joints popping and cracking in satisfaction. "The Apparat is not happy with you, you realize," Tolya rumbled, looking at Tamar with slight disapproval as she yawned. "Unless you do something unimaginably stupid, the Apparat will have no excuse for the Soldat Sol not to march on the palace with us, their allegiance is to Alina, after all," she shrugged, picking her axe back up and flipping its grooved handle in her palm. I drummed my fingers on the map laid atop my desk, a restless energy taking hold of my limbs. "Sometimes I question my own sanity," I dramatically sighed, though not without an underlying touch of sincerity.

Marching on Os Alta to challenge a madman with an army of shadow demons at his disposal? Questionable at best.

"So do I, moi soveryeni," Tamar smirked, garnering a sharp look from her brother. "At ease, Tolya, we might not be alive much longer to partake in such tedious formality," I waved my hand. He sighed, resting his hands over the swords secured at his belt, repeatedly thumbing over the handles of the gleaming blades. I bit down on my cheek, my attention drawn back to the paper staring up at me with increasing intensity. My fingers ghosted over the official document stamped with the official Lanstov crest. I had read the words over and over until every stroke of ink was branded into my mind.

"It seems my father has fallen ill again," I flashed a bitter smile, "They don't think he'll last through the week. He... officially named me the King of Ravka. Rather begrudgingly actually."

They sat in shocked silence.

A laugh had fallen from my mouth before I could stop it. "I'd be more honored if there was an actual country to lead, but we'll get there," I shrugged. My shoulders relaxed as I sat back again, the burdening weight of the knowledge finally falling away now that I had said it aloud. Despite everything, there was sorrow in my heart at the news. It was more than likely that we weren't even blood related, but he had raised me like a son, at least up until I had taken the name Sturmhond along with one of his precious ships. The corner of my lips plucked upwards ever so slightly. "Let Zoya and Genya know that the Grisha will have tonight to stock up on any supplies they need before the battle. We'll need every advantage we can get. I don't know about you, but I don't plan on letting those demon things rip my beautiful head from my body. What would the world possibly do without my stunning looks and intellect?"

Tamar grinned. Tolya grimaced.

"Will do," Tamar stood up, casually resting her axe over her shoulder before adding a wry, "Moi tsar." Tolya rose to his feet as well, dipping his head as a sign of respect, "We will have them all ready by morning, moi tsar." I sighed as they promptly exited my tent, my gaze fastening back on the maps laid out before me. There was hope, a sliver of it at least. And if everything went according to plan, Alina would rid us of that miserable Darkling for forever.

One could only hope.

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

I stared down at Alina, my eyes running over every perfect line in her face as she slept curled in my lap. As she often would end up, her limbs were latched around me like a vine to a tree, legs tangled through mine and arms twisted around my torso. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Every jostle of the coach made me tense, holding her tighter against me. The road back to Os Alta was another long trip, concerningly long, in fact, considering the fact that Fjerdan threat was more aggressive than ever.

_Tell me Aleksander, would you say the same if I died due to your meaningless war?_

The question had haunted me for days, her silky voice insisting for me to acknowledge the thought over and over in the back of my mind. My jaw clenched. I didn't want to ever consider having to live another hundred centuries without her. Being alone wasn't an option I would entertain anymore, I had given up on Alina's expendability long ago. But to give up the throne, to give up everything I had worked for for centuries? To have to submit to the possibility of serving yet another useless, incompetent otkazat'sya? My gaze was drawn back to the light of my life, fast asleep in my grasp. She stirred slightly at the rough jolts of the coach moving over uneven terrain, her delicate hand grasping a handful of the bottom of my kefta and pulling the fabric into her chest. There was no questioning that I couldn't lose her, the only good thing to ever lay eyes on me and see something that was salvageable within the yawning chasm of darkness.

I almost startled when the door opened, shuttering my thoughts as Ivan swung in without hesitation seeing as the coach was still moving at a brisk pace. He took in Alina sleeping in my arms with muted repulsion. I had stopped trying to hide the signs of our intimacy weeks ago, anyone with half a mind would put together that she had become my one weakness in the world. Even so, I sat back stiffly, putting a small distance between her body and my torso. She whimpered softly with an insistent tug on my kefta. "Speak, Ivan," I waved my hand for him to go ahead. "I've received word that West Ravka is mobilizing," he sat down on the cushions opposite me before producing a weathered piece of parchment from his kefta, "They have close to five thousand soldiers, of those just under three hundred Grisha among their ranks."

He looked up, a sour frown on his lips. "They can't possibly think their numbers could stand a chance against us and the nichevo'ya."

The thought had immediately sprung to my mind as well. That sobachka bastard couldn't possibly be that imbecilic. For all of his uselessness, I could admit he had a clever mind. As if we shared the same thoughts, we both looked down to Alina at precisely the same moment curled up in my lap. "They think she's still with them," I laughed, the sound icy and flagitious even to my own ears. I couldn't help the wicked smirk that curved my lips. Ivan returned the look, smugness radiating off of him. "At least she's useful for something," he snarked, his eyes drifting back to her for a brief moment in distaste.

Suddenly, the sweet taste of satisfaction turned bitter on my tongue. Over and over I had let Ivan get away with his remarks and his blatant disrespect, mostly due to his unwavering loyalty to me. But as my fingers tightened around Alina protectively, anger sparking in my chest, I knew it had been enough.

"If you would like to continue being my second in command, you would do well to watch your tongue about your queen," I seethed, unable to keep the anger from saturating my words. He looked taken aback, something between fear and shock flashing in his eyes for a split second before he nodded hesitantly. "Understood, moi tsar." I gave a sharp flick of my hand to gesture his dismissal. He stood up, hunching in order to keep his head from hitting the top of the coach and quickly stepped out without another word. Alina shifted, whispering something in her sleep that was almost indiscernible. My name. She seemed to be completely unconscious, merely talking in her sleep. It felt like an electrifying spark when she spoke again, a low murmur, her eyes still peacefully closed.

"I love you, Aleksander."

It was in that very moment I realized I would most certainly do anything to keep this woman by my side. She was my salvation, everything that I truly needed and had been searching for for centuries upon centuries.

No war would stand between us anymore, I would make sure of it.

***

It was frightening how distant Aleksander had been since we had arrived back at Os Alta. He had gone quiet, and I knew it was because of the words we had shared after the attack. Was I truly worth him seceding some of the power he had worked for so long to achieve? The thought of him deciding I wasn't was terrifying. I combed my fingers through my hair, trying to make it look somewhat presentable as my eyes roamed over my reflection in the mirror. Whether it was the firebird or constantly being in contact with Aleksander or a combination of both, my appearance was finally something I could catch sight of in the mirror and not grimace at what was reflecting back at me.

My dark circles were faded, my body filled out and what someone would  _almost_  refer to as curvy. The brittle texture of my hair now looked almost as silky as Aleksander's, glossy and shining when the morning light hit it just right. I was a powerful Grisha, not the meek, starving girl that Mal had wanted me to stay as. This was who I was truly meant to be, the Sun Summoner in all of her power and glory. Aleksander had been the one to bring that out of me, or in his words, he was the one to help me _rise to my true destiny_. Before, I had never been able to fathom a happy life without Mal by my side, but now that didn't seem out of reach. In fact, I  _was_ happy with Aleksander.

I didn't realize how hard I was smiling until I caught sight of my expression in the mirror. Quickly turning on my heels, I snatched my kefta on the way out from our quarters, my strides long and purposeful. I caught sight of Ivan as soon as I turned the corner of the long hallway that led down to my rooms. "Ivan have you seen the Darkling?" I asked mildly, expecting a glower or a biting remark in response. To my surprise, he flashed me a thin smile, "Baghra's hut, moya tsaritsa." The expression looked startlingly foreign on his brutish features, in fact, I doubted I had ever actually seen him smile. "Thanks," I hummed softly, my brow furrowing in disbelief as he bowed deeply before striding away.

What kind of parallel universe was this?

Shaking my head slightly I continued my path, now in the direction of Baghra's hut. My footsteps echoed on the marble flooring, dramatically announcing my arrival to every serf and Grisha that I passed. I knew it was bad that I almost enjoyed the feeling of them bowing as I approached, whispering respectful words of acknowledgment. Aleksander seemed to be rubbing off on me. Almost instinctively, my face tilted up towards the sun as I exited the palace doors, soaking in the pleasantly mild warmth of early summer. A welcome change from the ever present cold blanketing Tsibeya. The thought turned my mouth sour. Before we had left, we had been assured that Natalia would make a full recovery, but it all had hit far too close to home. If Sasha got hurt in the crossfire of this pointless war I would slaughter whoever it was where they stood with no hesitation or mercy.

Water droplets clung to my skin as my feet sunk into the dewy grass of the meadow. I quickly began to cross the wide length of it to where Baghra's hut stood, my gaze wandering, drawn to the lake that sparkled in the morning light. A dim memory of the first time Aleksander had kissed me surfaced before flitting away. It felt like a whole other life now, considering how drastically things had changed. As if I had snapped out of a trance, I found my feet on Baghra's doorstep, my feet shifting on the weathered wood. A twinge of sorrow flickered through me as I knocked softly on the weathered wood. Such a simple, familiar gesture it hurt.

"I said for no one to disturb me," Aleksander's muffled voice was sharp enough to cut glass, carrying through the thick wooden door with just as much intensity as if we were speaking face to face. I pushed the door open, my eyes immediately locking with his as soon as he came into view. He was sitting near the ashen fireplace, the steel in his gaze immediately softening when he saw me. "You almost intimidated me for a second there," I let my lips curve ever so slightly, closing the door behind me with a soft click. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow a measured increment. There was something businesslike to his gaze, a cold storm brewing just underneath the surface of the expression. I carefully avoided the chair that Baghra had always taken, instead settling onto the worn black leather seat straight across from him.

"I've been thinking a lot, Alina," he reached for a bottle of kvas, pouring the amber liquid into a glass. "Clearly, you've barely spoken to me since we got back," I snorted. Silently, I cursed my own tongue as his gaze darkened slightly with exasperation. He brought the glass to his lips, downing the drink before setting it back onto the table. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he sighed, pressing two fingers to his temple with the barest shake of his head. I remained silent, sealing my lips together to stifle another snarky reply. In his own words, _patience is a deadly tool._ My fingers dug into the cracked leather of the chair as the silence prolonged. "If I do this, you have to promise me that _this_ ," he paused, gesturing between us pointedly, "Is forever." My teeth latched onto my lower lip. "What do you mean, Aleksander?" I softly asked. His grip tightened around the armrest of his chair. "Promise me," he rasped, something almost dangerous in the quietness of his words. Forever was not an empty promise. And yet my reply formed on my lips without even the barest measure of hesitation. "Yes, I think we established that I'm not going to leave you Aleksander, I'm irretrievably, head over heels in love with your stubborn ass, now out with it." He let out a laugh that signified a mixture of amusement and disbelief at my response. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again.

"I'll negotiate with the Lantsov boy."

My breath caught.

"Aleksander Morozova, if you are lying to me I will never speak to you again." My voice was trembling despite the threat. His lips curved bitterly. "I stopped lying to you long ago Alina. I'm having the papers drafted as we speak." Something like a sob left my throat as I finally released the breath I was holding. I hadn't realized until this very second that I had been forcing myself to come to terms with the fact that Nikolai likely wouldn't make it out of the war alive. "Why," I managed to ask, the word almost strangled with incredulity. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes traveling my figure up and down, the hardness fading into something breathtakingly gentle, "Because you are my everything, Alina Starkov. Nothing is more important to me, not even a throne."

I couldn't stop my own growing smile, a giddy laugh escaping my lips. Everything I had hoped for, everything I had wanted and fought to salvage in him was finally coming to fruition. No one I loved was going to be sacrificed for my actions, peace would come and I would have all of the people I loved most alive and well.

"Did I ever mention that I fucking love you," I practically leapt towards him, my actions almost uncontrollable as I kissed him over and over and over until I could hardly breathe. "You can say it as many times as you'd like, solnishka," he laughed in return, his soft, perfect lips matching my passion with burning heat. His hands grasped at my hips, pushing me away slightly and searching my eyes with an adoration that never ceased to warm every single fiber of my being. "Once you both get over your egos, I'm going to make sure you and Nikolai become the best of friends," I grinned. His smile soured just slightly.

Fine. It would be a work in progress then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing :)


	36. why are you blushing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my wifi back legit two hours ago damn I work fast lol
> 
> epilogue is almost finished and im gonna say we have around 6 ish chapters still not including that so we still chillin don't worry. more sasha is coming your way as a reward for your patience.
> 
> enjoy <3
> 
> p.s. I hate college

It had been a long, exhausting week, but not in a bad sense by any means. It felt as if Aleksander had never once taken his hands off of me the whole time, stealing kisses during meetings and whispering unimaginably sweet nothings to me as if we were lovesick teenagers. It seemed my promise to him that what we had was forever had flipped an invisible switch, one that somehow now convinced him it wasn't a weakness to be loved and to give the same in return. On an entirely different note I had also discovered in rapidly increasing frequency that his forever meant a lot of time spent in the dark. On the bed, on the desk, against the wall, on the floor, in the bath, on top of the map of Ravka in the war room...

"Why are you blushing?"

Aleksander looked at me inquisitively over the top of his book, arching a brow at my very obviously flushed cheeks. "I'm hot, I'm not blushing," I grumbled, the knowing smirk that bared his lips in response indicating he knew exactly what I was thinking of. He flicked his fingers, a thick wisp of shadow materializing and pushing open the glass doors to the balcony. A cold breeze immediately wafted through the chambers, dropping the temperature of the room to a pleasant cool. I had to look away, my cheeks flaming even brighter, we had done sinful things up against those doors merely hours ago. "Some cold air for your warm cheeks," he mildly spoke, amusement saturating his words as he leaned back against the bed's headboard, his attention promptly dropping back down to his book.

I attempted to do the same, but the words blurred on the yellowed page as my mind wandered. My nichevo'ya bite itched with uncomfortable heat, for the first time in months possibly. I thumbed over the dull, ragged edges of the book one more time before shifting it into my lap, tugging at the sleeve of my nightgown to expose the skin of my shoulder. A grimace pulled at my lips. The scarring from the marks of shadowed teeth were a dark, sickly gray, even more noticeable now that the rest of my skin consistently glowed with warmth. I was painfully aware that Aleksander's eyes had shifted back to me, his stare practically burning through my shoulder.

"Does it still hurt?" His words were soft.

Dim memories of fear and being held in a low ceilinged room, Aleksander lounging on a chair like a throne and staring at me with coldness in his eyes brewed uneasily in the back of my mind. I pushed it away in haste.

"No, just itches sometimes," I bit down on my lower lip, not meeting his gaze. His hand pressed against mine when I tried to pull my sleeve back up, halting the movement. Goosebumps immediately scattered across my arms as his slender fingers brushed over the ugly mark, gently tracing the length of the dark scarring. "I'm sorry," he uttered amidst an exhale, the fragile words almost lost. "Lets just say I owe you one," I grabbed for his hand, using my free one to lift the fabric back into place, obscuring the scars from view. His jaw clenched, I could tell he clearly wanted to say something else, but remained silent, grasping my hand tightly.

"Why don't you distract me by telling me what our plans are for once this stupid war is finally over," I sighed, leaning into the curve of his arm and settling onto his chest. He stiffened instinctually at the sudden contact before relaxing again, settling his arm around my torso, fingertips drifting lightly over my hip. "Well first and foremost, we'll get a room for Sasha near our quarters because saints know you love that little girl more than me," he chuckled, a familiar warmth returning to his voice, "And then we'll rebuild Ravka from the anarchical chaos that your supposedly clever prince caused, building a sanctuary for Grisha to come from anywhere in the world." I huffed, but let the Nikolai comment slide. He would come around eventually.

"Lots of long nights," he suggestively added after a brief moment, chuckling softly when I backhanded him in the center of his annoyingly muscled chest. "Maybe get married?" I suggested hopefully, tracing the faintest blue vein running down the length of his arm with the tip of my finger. He paused. "And maybe get married," he repeated thoughtfully, as if the idea had never even occurred to him. "If we're going to be together for centuries, you're going to have to give me a ring sometime, otherwise I might forget in my old age that we're in a relationship," I smirked, holding my hand up and waving my fingers slightly in indication. I could almost feel him rolling his eyes as he swatted at my hand. "I would never let you forget that you're mine," he sulked, his fingertips sliding under my chin and tilting my face up to press a possessive kiss against my lips. "You're insufferable," I mumbled into his mouth. He pulled away, the loss of contact making me frown slightly in the face of his arrogant grin.

"What else is new, solnishka."

***

Nikolai's P.O.V

"What. The. Fuck."

It was the first time I had ever seen Zoya, the last person to read the letter, look bewildered. We all were, staring in the face of a scroll of parchment stamped with an official eclipse proclaiming a ceasefire and a proposition for a parley. And signed at the bottom in gracefully elegant cursive was the signature of the Darkling himself. The room fell to silence. "Horse shit," Genya spoke first, her eye blazing with heat as she gripped the table's edge, "He is a man of no mercy and no conscience. There is no way he would consider negotiating away power, especially when he has the upper hand." A whirlwind of thoughts and ideas and theories were swirling through my mind, the words blurring on the paper as I stared at them.

"Nikolai, you're not actually thinking of accepting, are you?" Zoya incredulously spoke, tossing her glossy black waves over her shoulder. "Of course not, I may be devastatingly handsome, but that doesn't mean I'm an idiot," I quipped, making her roll her eyes. "I'm not so sure," she returned acerbically. I snorted. "Are you questioning my intelligence?" She leaned back in her chair, arching a manicured brow, "No, I'm merely denying its existence." Tamar clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Genya rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that made David's eyes widen. "Of course I'm not accepting," I repeated, a restless urge in my limbs causing me to stand up and slowly begin to pace. "We're going to continue with our plans because that's our only hope, and whatever this is," I gestured to the document pointedly, "Is not going to distract us from that fact. That's what he wants to happen. We're going to mobilize tomorrow and march through those palace gates in a weeks time, saints be damned."

A soft yawn made all of us snap to attention as the canvas flap of the tent was pulled open, revealing a small figure with tired eyes. "Sasha, its late, what are you doing up?" I softly asked, my heart warming at the sight of her. She glanced around the room, rubbing her eyes, "I had a bad dream, Niki." She looked up at Zoya curiously, who had a look of disapproval twisting at her lips. Sasha tilted her head before looking back in my direction, nodding thoughtfully to herself, "Still scary." Genya snorted.

Sasha trudged over to my side, fingers tugging at her light pink nightgown. "What was your dream?" I asked with a sigh. Knowing Sasha, I would most definitely have to humor her first in order to get her to go back to bed. "Well, there was a fight," she puckered her lips, snatching my hand from my side and hugging my arm into her chest. "And then, Mr. Darkling said he would play princess in the castle with me, but Alina left and couldn't come play. Then you had a fight with him and Alina was super super sad, and then I woke up." She looked up me with watery blue eyes.

The room was silent. This topic had been one we all had constantly avoided with her, considering the fact that she had taken such a strong liking to the Darkling.

"It was just a dream, that would never happen in real life," I grimaced at my own hollow words. She crossed her arms over her chest, a sulky look playing over her features. "Well when are they coming back?" she questioned indignantly. My attention snapped to Zoya when she interrupted. "They're not coming back, because your _Mr. Darkling_ friend kidnapped Alina and he's most definitely a bad guy that is  _never_  going to play with you," she narrowed her eyes bitterly. "Zoya!" Genya exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock. Sasha's hand clutched at mine tighter, her bottom lip quivering. "No he didn't," she argued with a stomp of her tiny foot, tears brimming in her eyes. Zoya curled her lip, but was quickly cut off by Tolya before she could add anything else and worsen the situation even further.

The giant man stood up, approaching our side of the table and kneeling down in front of her. "He took Alina away because he wants her all to himself," he gently worded, "But we all want to be friends with Alina, right? So we're going to convince him to come back and then we'll all be friends again, don't worry." Sasha sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her small hand before nodding reluctantly. "How about we go back to bed now, huh Sasha?" I nudged her, promptly causing her to turn around and bury her face into the fabric of my olive green uniform. "Fine," she mumbled, her fingers clutching at me as I lifted her into my arms, letting her small limbs latch around my torso. My chest ached dully at the continuation of the string of lies and dishonesty we had been feeding her.

There was only one thing that I knew for sure. In this war, there would be no such happily ever after that she was looking for.

***

"The Fjerdan attacks have decreased since we pulled back our forces. The trade relations along the southern border have been relatively smooth with Shu Han. And there's been no reply to the negotiation propositions from West Ravka. In fact, there's whispers of them mobilizing."

Aleksander tapped his fingers against the table, glancing over at me with a pointed look.

_I told you so._

"They'll reply, I know they will," I insisted, though doubt rustled in my heart.

They might think its a trick, or they might just refuse to negotiate with him at all. And for good reason too.

"How about the villages on the border," I eagerly changed the subject, looking to Christov and avoiding Aleksander's eyes. "The village you just visited is being rebuilt as we speak, the other ones have been relatively quiet, as of now they've all been reconstructed," Christov rifled through the papers, scanning them before nodding in confirmation. A grin tugged at my lips. Aleksander could moan and complain all he wanted, but the borders were more peaceful than they had ever been. My plan was working.

"Has there been any activity along the Fold?" Aleksander questioned impassively. This time he was the one who didn't meet my eyes, his gaze trained on Christov. Ivan cleared his throat to answer instead. "Also quiet. The West Ravkans are assumed to have set up their camps just east of it along the northern border," he roughly spoke, tapping at a spot on the large map of Ravka that was laid out over the table.

The Fold. I had almost forgotten about its existence, but a quick glance through the window of its jagged cut through the landscape far off on the horizon was reminder enough.

"Thank you, that will be all," I quickly worded a dismissal, causing a plethora of confused looks to be thrown my way. "Now," I snapped, feeling heat rush to the surface of my skin. Aleksander folded his arms in irritation as I sent the table of advisors rushing out of the war room in haste. "I still had more things to discuss," he steeled, his annoyance with me clear. I stood up, leaning back against the wooden table so my body was angled towards his. "Yeah, and we have more pressing matters to talk about at the moment. Like, I don't know, what the hell we're going to do about the Fold." He arched a brow unpleasantly. A scowl formed on my lips. I hated that look with burning passion. "What we're going to do?" he humorlessly chuckled, eyes hard, "We're not going to _do_ anything about the Fold. It's going to continue to exist as it has for the past four hundred years." I almost shivered.

It had been _four_ _centuries_ since he had created the abomination.

"Why would you possibly want to keep it around?" I narrowed my eyes slightly. Did he make it a sport to combat everything I said? It was becoming increasingly exhausting to argue with him about every single one of these types of matters.

"Insurance. Do you really want our enemies getting comfortable? To stop seeing us as a threat? With the Fold, we can end wars as soon as they begin, before they begin even. It's a useful tool, and we're not destroying it. End of discussion." My jaw clenched, my lip curling. He had somewhat of a point, but I knew it was more about power than anything for him. Power over his enemies. Power over everyone, really. "You're insufferable," I snapped. Just last night I had spoken the same words to him with lighthearted amusement. That seemed to be a common theme where our relationship was concerned, a constant back and forth of harmony and conflict.

He sighed, hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head ever so slightly. "I'm trying to protect Ravka, Alina, do you really think that I'll be able to do anything drastic without your knowledge?" He canted his head. I rubbed my temple with two fingers, trying to keep the headache that was forming at bay. He stood up from his gilded chair, leaning up against the table next to me. "I want to trust you," I sighed, the words especially heavy as they fell from my lips.

"But you don't."

The response was matter of fact. With my heart, most definitely. But the fate of Ravka and all of the people in it? "I want to, Aleksander," I swallowed hard, leaning into the curve of his body, "But there's so much history, you know that. You hurt people, you hurt my friends. We can't just act like it never happened." He remained silent, save for a soft exhale that filled the air between us. My fingertips came to rest on his hand that gripped the table's edge, drawing gentle patterns on his skin as the silence prolonged. "I won't weaponize the Fold unless its absolutely necessary, Alina, and even then, it will be a decision we make together," he murmured, "Only as a last resort. Nothing like Novokribirsk again, I promise you." I tried not to flinch as a series of painful memories flashed through my vision in quick succession. It felt like a physical blow to my chest, the thought of him using me like nothing more than a valuable tool, my power bound to him.

_He's a different man now._

My teeth sunk into my lower lip, pulling me back into reality before I drowned in my own dark, limitless pit of suffering. "You promise," I affirmed quietly, watching as he intertwined our fingers, squeezing my hand tightly in his large one.

"I don't make empty promises, Alina."

I had to be certifiably insane to trust him. I closed my eyes, a deep sigh releasing from my lungs before, slowly, I nodded.

"Okay, Aleksander."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it always inspires me to keep writing :)


	37. that is the emptiest feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is a day late but it took me less than a week to get this chapter up since my last update... so... win??
> 
> this chapter is also pretty chill but, be warned the angst is COMING and you will love and hate me for it and ahhh im so excited because even though its almost over and its bittersweet im just so excited to share it with you guys!! 
> 
> so basically thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me I think im going to be finalizing the chapter count tonight so thats official omg. and all I have to write left is like the last fucking sentence of the epilogue because I can't figure out how to/bring myself to end it. so maybe I just won't ever finish it lol I hate myself what okay
> 
> but anyways enjoy <3

My body was damp with sweat still as I shifted on the bed, unable to sleep with the feeling of Aleksander's gaze still burning into me. "You know you always turn on your side away from me when you're about to go to asleep?" he observed insistently, his fingertips grazing over my bare shoulder blade. I rolled my eyes, an annoyed huff escaping my lips, "Aleksander, we just had sex six times, I'm tired. Can we please just go to sleep like normal people without you obsessing over every single little thing I do?" I turned back over to meet his silver eyes in exasperation, propping myself up on my elbows and hugging the sheets tight into my chest. He was silent for a moment.

"But why do you turn away from me?" he questioned again, making me groan and flop down against the blankets. "Maybe you have bad breath," I arched a brow, making a low scoff emit from his rosy lips. "Wow, don't be so conceited, its not like you're perfect," I rolled my eyes, fastening my gaze up towards the ceiling. My eyes burned with exhaustion. "I most definitely do not have bad breath," he grumbled, shifting on the mattress so he was now laying on his back as well. I folded my arms over my chest, remaining silent. I knew him well enough now to know there was obviously something on his mind, and though my eyelids were struggling to stay open, I would just have to stay awake until he spit it out. Finally, he spoke.

"They rejected the negotiations."

An icy feeling of dread immediately pooled in my stomach at the admission of information, my breath catching in my throat as my body jerked upward into a sitting position.

_They had rejected it?_

This was supposed to be the answer to all of our problems, more accurately, all of _my_ problems.

The sense of dread was gripping in its chill.

He took my lack of reply as his chance to elaborate, his gaze fastening onto mine. "They're mobilized and their army is days away from Os Alta," he uttered softly, devoid of any emotion. No, there was no way it had come to this. I wasn't going to fight them. I couldn't fight them, not even for Aleksander. "Then we'll negotiate at the gates," I nodded confidently, "I'll go to them myself, talk Nikolai down from whatever crazy plan he has. It'll work." He flashed me a look of thinly veiled skepticism.

"It'll work," I insisted again, swallowing down the doubtful whispers teasing at my tongue.

 _Someone's going to die. Someone you_ love _is going to die._

He opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly cut him off. "And don't you dare say any of that dumb shit about war being necessary for progress, I don't want to hear it," I warned, flashing him a muted glare. His mouth snapped shut immediately, his eyes simmering with heat. I knew he wanted to object, but fortunately, he stayed blissfully quiet. I might have gone insane if he spouted off another one of his speeches about the cost of war and sacrifices having to be made. And as much as I hated it, I knew the words were true. Sacrifices would have to be made.

By me.

***

Our footsteps were nearly silent as we walked the trail through the impressively vibrant gardens, the quiet between us comfortably peaceful. Aleksander absently reached for my hand, slender fingers flexing as he slid them through mine, the skin to skin contact immediately making my body warm in response to his touch. His strides, as always, were impossibly long despite their languorous appearance, and I found myself taking at least two steps to match every one of his.

"Aleks, can you slow down just a bit?" I finally relented, my breaths were becoming increasingly labored with the exertion of trying to keep up with him. He had previously been staring off rather mysteriously into the distance, now his eyes cast down to me, a smirk pulling at his lips as he slowed down his strides by a significant amount. "Don't be so smug, you're nearly twice my height," I narrowed my eyes slightly, unable to keep myself from smiling as his smirk melted into a crooked grin. His smile never ceased to take my breath away, the twist of his rosy lips practically mesmerizing in its perfection.

And then I had to look down, my cheeks crawling with an embarrassed blush that I had shamelessly gawked at his beauty right to his face.

"It's okay, not everyone can be this ridiculously good looking," he tilted his head to the side, eyes glimmering with humor. I snorted before I could stop myself. "Now you just sound like Nikolai," I grumbled. It seemed I was destined to be surrounded by impossibly good looking men that were more than well aware of their attractiveness. He squeezed my hand gently, pulling me closer so I was walking under the crook of his arm, our steps slowing to a lazy crawl. I inhaled the airy scent of flowers, my fingers ghosting over a pale pink rosebud as we passed the leafy plant, my attention diverted by the beauty blooming all around us.

"We never had flowers in Keramzin," I commented mildly, the thought had sprung to mind and left my lips in the span of a blink. I almost cringed instinctively, he and I had seldom talked about my life as an orphan. We just seemed to share a mutual understanding of our childhoods being dismal at best and respected a silent agreement to limit our conversation on the topic. He studied me for a brief moment in consideration, eyes tracing the curve of my jawline. My teeth dug into my lower lip as he promptly withdrew his hand from mine, turning on his heels and walking back the way we came with purposeful speed. I stared after him uncertainly with my arms hanging at my sides, as painfully awkward as ever. Was I supposed to follow? After a couple of minutes of me debating what to do with myself, he reappeared from around the corner, hands clasped behind his back.

"What was that?" I arched a brow pointedly. As soon as he had drawn near enough he produced a small bundle of white roses from behind his back, the bottoms slightly jagged from being picked by hand. "Here," he cleared his throat, offering them to me. I giggled, making him frown at my reaction. "You're such a dork," I laughed, gently peeling his fingers from the stems and hugging the ivory flowers into my chest. He gave me an impassive look before resuming walking down the path. "Okay, okay, you're not a dork," I snickered as I quickly jogged to catch up with him, "I love the flowers, that was really romantic." He rolled his eyes, making me stifle another laugh. For all of his tough exterior, he could seriously be so sensitive. Suppressing silent giggles, I followed him closely over to the bench that we commonly conversed on during our frequent walks, sitting down beside him and tucking my knees into my chest. He crossed his long legs out in front of him at the ankles, resting his elbows over the top of the back of the polished black wood.

The sound of birds singing bright melodies filled the air along with the leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze. I leaned into the curve of Aleksander's body as I lifted a hand, absentmindedly playing with the sunbeams that streamed through the trees. The light seemed to come alive underneath the direction of my fingertips, glimmering as I shaped it into a golden butterfly. It fluttered through the air, wings sparkling like diamonds. From my peripheral vision I observed Aleksander hesitate before twirling his fingertips, a butterfly of his own collecting from the shadows and proceeding to playfully follow mine through the air. I blurted the question before I could stop to think, the second occurrence of my utterly embarrassing impulsiveness just within the last fifteen minutes.

"I want to learn merzost."

His eyes were sharp as they snapped to look at me.

"Absolutely not." The words were clipped, a non negotiable, laconic response.

A huff heaved from my lungs in displeasure. "Why not? What happened to being equals?" I challenged, raising a brow. His fingers curled into a fist, the shadowed butterfly he had created only seconds earlier quickly disintegrating into wisps of darkness. "I refuse to lead you down that path, Alina," he spoke in a manner of seriousness that garnered every last scrap of my attention, something almost loathing in the way the words formed on his tongue. My teeth grazed over my lower lip. It was difficult trying to discern what was actually rational and what was merely my hunger for power, they mixed together in a tangled mess that was quite possibly impossible to distinguish from one another. One thing I could determine for sure was that his vast knowledge of power placed me at a significant disadvantage to him.

"I'm strong enough to travel down any path that you have," I uttered assertively enough to let him know I was just as serious as he was. He regarded me as if I was certifiably insane, his brow crinkling just slightly in response. "I don't doubt that, Alina," he shook his head with a ghost of heavy exhaustion, "I won't allow you to make the same mistakes I have, to tear yourself apart over and over to create things that never should exist. I don't regret the nichevo'ya, but I would never wish the consequences upon anyone else, _particularly_ you, Alina."

My lips curved into an irritated frown. That hadn't been the response I had wanted to hear, perfectly rational and even a touch of heartfelt. I brooded, now annoyed with the cheerful brightness of the summer afternoon.

"What is it like?" I finally asked, both out of my own curiosity and bitterness.

He paused, the air around him going still.

"It used to be like a drug," he toned impassively, his blank gaze telling in that he was mentally a million miles away, "Addicting in the total power that it provided me with. Now, its effortless. It's easy to use, to call to, merzost is twisted through every fiber of my being like poison dissolved into my bloodstream. But the rush is gone. All I want is more, and there is nothing more that is left to give. And realizing you have reached the pinnacle of power, that is the emptiest feeling of it all." There was something haunting about his expression. These moments, these were the moments that reminded me how vastly different we were. He had the burden of eternity on his shoulders, I couldn't even begin to think of everything that he had lived through that had brought him to this point. And yet, that same unwavering desire within me whispered words of sin that teased at the back of my mind insistently.

_Unlock the secret of merzost. Become his equal, and more._

I had already suffered from my own greed in hunting the firebird. It had cost me my best friend, my first love, the man who had been by my side through everything, even through the rough times. That price had almost destroyed me. I had no idea what merzost would entail, but it could very easily tear me apart. "Fine," I relented. If I wasn't mistaken, I almost thought I heard him breathe a soft sigh of relief. He wrapped his arm tighter around me, his fingertips trailing down my skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"There's really no negotiating?" I mused after a moment, this time more teasingly than anything in hopes of alleviating the tension. "No, Alina," he shook his head with a touch of bemusement. "Not even if I say we can't have sex until you teach me?" I smirked. He raised a brow, his expression shifting to one of wicked contention in the span of a single second. "Negotiations are only effective if you can follow through on your threats." My mouth fell open. The nerve of this arrogant asshole. "Maybe you're not as good as you think you are," I shot back, folding my arms over my chest indignantly. His lips curled into a smirk, one that conveyed he was most definitely self assured in that department. Not that I would really deny it, but still, he didn't have to be so _cocky_ about it. "You're the worst," I grumbled, resisting just slightly when he peeled one of my arms from their position folded over my chest, grabbing my hand and pressing his lips against the back of it.

"Mmm," he hummed agreeably, "Its a shame you're in love with me anyways."

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

The candle cast flickering shadows over the stacks of documents splayed out over my desk, dancing almost tauntingly over the decree my pen was poised over to sign.

_Mobilize for war._

That was the basic essence of the drafted paper that I had quietly sent for without Alina's knowledge. Yes, in her naivety she still believed she could negotiate the peaceful outcome she so desperately wished for, but her 'friends' were currently making the march to Os Alta's door, and I wasn't going to sit idly by and let them come without our defenses at the ready. And yet, my fingers still hesitated, grasping the smooth ebony pen with such tension my knuckles were white. I couldn't lose Alina's trust. But some things had to be done regardless.

A soft exhale escaped my lips as the tip of the pen came in contact with the parchment, spilling graceful ink into the spiraling shape of my signature.

Wisps of hot steam curled off of the pot of black melted wax as I opened the lid, tilting the glass container at an angle until the thick liquid spattered over the paper. My free hand grasped for my seal, and then I had stamped it, an eclipse staring back at me as I withdrew it from the paper. A sudden thought made my skin crawl.

What would Alina do when the time came? Who would she choose?

The feeling of uncertainty was chilling. For the first time in centuries, there was something that was almost completely out of my control. Not that Alina Starkov had ever been remotely under my control, even when she was physically collared to me she had fought her way free. My jaw muscles flexed with tension as I slammed the stamp back down onto the desk, grasping the sheaf of documents detailing the order as I stood up. A clench of my fist snuffed out the light of the candle with thick shadows, I promptly exited my office where Ivan was waiting like a scowling statue. He immediately snapped to attention at the sight of me.

"Take this," I shoved the papers at him before silently exhaling, trying to regain control back over my emotions. Something that had become increasingly difficult now that I actually _felt_ things. Damn Alina Starkov for remaking me into something that even somewhat resembled a human.  

Ivan quickly shuffled the papers into an organized stack, seemingly hesitating before opening his mouth. "What are you going to do about the sobachka?" I had pondered the question incessantly since they had rejected the invitation to negotiate. There was still no definitive answer considering Alina as part of the equation. Without factoring in her response, I would most certainly feed the bastard prince to the volcra with no hesitation. But Alina would never forgive me for it, of that I was certain.

"If he is looking to take the throne, he will not have it," I answered impassively. That was one truth I could stand behind. No longer would Grisha have to cower and answer to spineless otkazat'sya men sitting on cushioned thrones. Ivan grinned, a wicked expression that I had come to be increasingly annoyed by. "I'll get these sent out, moi tsar," he dipped his head, retreating to the shadowed hallway with footsteps that echoed loudly on the marble, disrupting the peaceful silence of night. "Ivan," I called authoritatively, making him pause and turn back to look at me. "Yes, moi tsar?"

"Alina is not to know about this."

That wicked expression again. My mouth soured. "As you wish, moi tsar," he smirked, and within a few strides, he had completely disappeared into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing and improving for you guys :)


	38. my heart will always be yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's my list for this chapter  
> 1\. this chapter is a little longer than normal, next chapter will be relatively short, so I'm going to probably update it during the week so you won't have to wait as long for it! go me!  
> 2\. I have finalized the chapter count, I am 98% sure of it, I might increase it by one chapter depending on edits/how I split it all up but we'll see but yeah its official im so emo  
> 3\. so I found this song called Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz if you follow me on tumblr you already know I think it would be literally perfection as a soc tv show intro because it is literally kaz brekker's theme song so if any of you readers are good at editing and want to make that ill be your slave forever  
> 4\. I don't want to get all sappy but truly every time I log on and see all of your nice comments and kudos it literally blows my mind like thank you so much it really means a lot to me 
> 
> okay! enjoy! <3
> 
> p.s. I have started the modern au (started is a relative term, I have a bare fucking minimum outline and like 50 words written rip) but hopefully that will become a reality expect it maybe January?? depends on how school goes but ill have time over winter break in December so I think ill get a bunch done then)

"I thought Grisha don't get sick."

My voice was hoarse, the words embarrassingly raspy as they grated against my sore, burning throat. "It could be possible your throat just hurts from screaming my name so loud," Aleksander chuckled, a sound as silky and rich as melted chocolate. It almost made me forget to swat at him from my curled up position under the covers. He dodged easily. "Well my stomach hurts too, I feel like I could vomit for days," I complained, the dull, throbbing ache in my abdomen making my whole body feverish with nausea. "If you need to throw up, the bathroom is right there," he gestured to the door slightly ajar leading to the ensuite, an amused look tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, I wouldn't be so smug, you were kissing these lips just last night," I raised an eyebrow pointedly, gesturing towards my mouth in indication. A flicker of realization immediately flashed in his eyes, his face slightly paling in unease. "Grisha don't get sick," he affirmed my earlier statement, though he didn't sound too confident anymore. I snickered before wincing as the movement sent a sharp pain rippling through my stomach. "Have you ever even gotten sick?" I asked mildly, letting my head fall back against the pillow in exhaustion and pressing the back of my hand to my clammy forehead.

"Never."

I let out a breath of frustration. Maybe it was the suppression of my powers during so much of my life that still made me susceptible to illness. "I hate you," I grumbled, cursing every flawless line of his beautiful face. He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, "You love me." I rolled my eyes, a grimace pulling at my mouth. My stomach was turning, a uncomfortably warm wave of nauseousness passing over me. For all of my joking around, I really didn't want him to have to see me hurl up the contents of my stomach.

"Don't you have work to do?" I weakly spoke, well aware that at this point I probably looked physically green, I stifled the urge to gag as quietly as I possibly could. "Of course I do," he sighed, almost reluctant, "I'll send for a Healer and come check on you as soon as I can." My heart warmed at the worried edge to his words. "I'm not going to die, don't worry," I snuggled into the silky sheets, pulling the soft fabric up to my neck to trap the heat in. Despite my feverish symptoms, I was practically shivering with chills. He made his way over to the side of the bed, bending down and pressing a brief, fleeting kiss against my forehead. "Don't even think of trying, I'm not planning on living the rest of my life without you," he firmly spoke, the heat of his lips lingering where they had touched my skin. "I'll keep that in mind Aleks, now go, you're late," I rolled my eyes. He took one last lingering look at me, one verging on longing, before he exited our chambers, the door gently closing behind him.

In the span of a blink I had torn the covers from my body, dashing to the bathroom and proceeded to violently throw up into the toilet.

Grisha don't get sick my ass.

***

I had just gotten up from the toilet bowl, staggering rather ungracefully to my feet when I heard the sound of the chamber doors opening. "Who is it?" I weakly asked, my eyelids fluttering closed in exhaustion.

"You look horrible."

I almost groaned aloud at the sound of Ivan's voice, grasping the sides of the sink in an effort to steady myself as I reluctantly glanced up. The look on his face was something in between a leer and a smirk, either way, I wanted to smack the expression off in the most painful manner possible. Instead I settled for a weak glare in return. "Why are you here?" I hoarsely asked, straightening my back in an effort to look at least a little bit more respectable. His gaze passed over me in quick disgust. "The Darkling is holding a meeting about the proceedings in regards to your friends, I just thought I would let you know," he sneered.

At that moment I almost wished I could purposefully vomit straight onto his perfectly polished boots. What an asshole.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," I replied acerbically, grasping the cool ebony of the sink handle and turning on a stream of cold water. My teeth clenched when he stayed hovering at the door, no doubt silently evaluating my every move. "You have this false sense of your own power, but just know, he is going to kill your bastard prince and your little friends and nothing you say will change that fact." Smug satisfaction dripped from every single word. Slowly, I bent over, splashing icy water over my feverish cheeks, focusing on the rivulets of refreshing liquid making their way down my skin in an effort to avoid hurting him yet again. How did Aleksander stand having him around all the time? He was like a bad cold that wouldn't just go away.

"I think I have more power than you, Ivan," I finally spoke, careful to not let my annoyance show, "So please, leave me the hell alone and stop spreading your bullshit opinion around where it's not wanted." I was silently proud at the utter emotionless to my tone. Aleksander would have approved. Rather infuriatingly, he smirked in response, tilting his head to the side in a clearly mocking manner. "So sad, you don't even realize how much he hides from you, _moya tsaritsa_ ," he sarcastically spoke, emphasizing my title spitefully. Doubt flickered in my chest, I quickly pushed it away. He wasn't like that anymore, he was honest with me and I trusted him with my whole heart. "Just leave, now," I spat, feeling heat crackle across my skin. The smirk deepened, he knew he had succeeded in his goal of getting under my skin. "But of course," he bowed contemptuously, red flashing at the corner of my vision as he turned away, leaving without another word.

Bile rose back up in my throat. 

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

"They're days away."

The West Ravkan army was days away from knocking down the gates of Os Alta, and Alina was puking into the toilet while I sat here and resisted the urge to give the order to slaughter them all. It was increasingly difficult to restrain myself when she wasn't here to remind me exactly why I wasn't going to do exactly that. The table had gone silent waiting for my response, Ivan looking especially uneasy at my lack of reply to his report. I shifted, carefully keeping the warm feeling of frustration from affecting the calm control of my words. "Fortify the palace. And organize all of the battalions for each sector of Os Alta." A collective nod in acknowledgment of my order. I hesitated.

"Alina seems to think she can work out some sort of negotiation with them, I don't share her optimism," I continued coldly, every word feeling like more and more of a betrayal, "We must be ready for a violent outcome. I have no doubt we will win in the event that it happens. When it happens." The victory would no doubt come even easier once they realized Alina was no longer with them, they had no hope other than her to win this war. And she wouldn't turn against me. She couldn't. I pushed away the thought, even formulating it was entirely too painful to even consider. 

"And what of your decision in regards to the Lantsov?" This time, it was Christov who spoke, his pen poised over his stack of papers at the ready to write down my answer. My fingertips pressed over the curve of my lips.

_Think of Alina._

I silently cursed myself. Having a conscience was quickly becoming an irritating thorn in my side. "He is to be captured, not killed, in the event the conflict turns violent," I impassively determined. Ivan's mouth practically dropped open in shock, "What?"

_Think of Alina. Beautiful, perfect Alina who is in love with you and most certainly won't be if you kill her prince._

"You heard what I said." My words were smooth, assured. "The sobachka is not to be harmed unless I explicitly give the order. I don't care for another revolution on my hands if we happen to end up killing their leader." A perfectly plausible explanation. Ivan scoffed, "You can't be serious. Killing him will rid us of their pitiful rebellion once and for all!"

The table fell to horrified silence at the clear sign of impertinence, looking to me in anxious trepidation. Cold anger gripped tightly around my chest, the shadows gathering in the corners of the room hissing softly and blanketing the room in unease. The urge to kill Ivan right where he stood was tempting, but I decidedly let the shadows flicker out from my fingertips. "If I hear anything so much as whispers of disrespect about my orders, those individuals will find that its much harder to express disagreement living out the rest of their days as volcra instead," I casually spoke, placing my hands on the table as I stood up. The pale faces staring up at me in pure terror was enough indication that my threat was effective in its severity. Ivan looked like he might pass out. I had almost forgotten the addicting feeling of power that fear brought.

A humorless smile pulled at my lips in satisfaction. "Don't forget who I am."

The cold, warning edge to my words was true. Alina could try to change me all she wanted, but my sympathies were increasingly limited for traitors.

No, the Darkling would never be known for being merciful. 

***

"Fucking saints, you no good, fucking-"

My string of curses was cut short as another wave of nausea passed over me, a fit of retches heaving at my lungs before I threw up again into the toilet I was so desperately clutching at. Sweat clung to my skin and clothes as I sat back against the wall, my breaths pitiful, ragged pants. I had been in this state most of the day, alternating between the bed and bathroom while waves of serf women came and went, bringing me water and attempting to comfort me as I continued to succumb to the relentless sickness. I closed my eyes tightly as the sound of footsteps neared.

"Please, just leave me," I practically whimpered, knowing I looked much less than royal curled up on the ground like a pathetic mouse. Silence ensued, though the presence remained, moving quietly around the bathroom. I didn't have the strength to insist for them to go, it was a likely possibility that if I opened my mouth again another round of puking would follow. My body tensed as the feeling of a cold rag came in contact with my forehead, cooling my feverish temperature. As their fingertips brushed against my skin, I immediately knew it wasn't a serf girl.

"Aleks, you came," I sighed, cracking my eyes open a sliver to look up at him. His brows were creased with worry, and yet somehow he still was able to look breathtakingly handsome. I flushed at the thought of how I looked in comparison to him, my eyes fluttering back shut in defeat. "Alina, I didn't know it was this bad," he spoke almost angrily, "Did the Healer not come?" My eyes remained closed, I couldn't meet his stare. "They don't know what's wrong with me," I murmured. He let out a sharp exhale before removing the rag, pressing his lips to my damp forehead in replacement.

_If Alina Starkov had opened her eyes, she would have seen the clear struggle that the man she loved was going through. The phrase she so desperately wanted to hear was dangerously close to leaving his lips, but after a long moment of conflict, he merely cleared his throat._

"Let's get you back in bed."

My whole body ached in protest as he helped me climb to my feet, allowing me to lean heavily into his side as he practically dragged me back towards the bed. I barely registered the press of the mattress against my back as he helped me lay down, fingertips smoothing my hair back from my face. "Don't look at me, I'm hideous," I mumbled, a bare smile on my lips as I looked up at him through heavy eyelids. He chuckled in response. "You are nothing short of perfection, Alina." The bed dipped as he settled on top of the covers next to me, gently stroking the tangles from my hair. A soft sigh of content left my lips at the sensation. "You're the perfect one." The words came out as nothing more than an unintelligible string of syllables, the feeling of his slender fingers combing through my hair was pure, distracting ecstasy.

He shifted, pulling me into his chest and holding me as if I might vanish at any second. "Alina, I know you're sick, but you need to know something." I was dimly aware that it had to have been important, but I was too preoccupied with the perfect curve of his body against mine to remotely care. "It can wait," I sighed, clutching the fabric of his shirt. His pulse quickened against my palm as I buried my head into the crook of his neck. "No, it can't Alina," he breathed in somewhat of a strained manner, his touch pressing underneath my chin and tilting my head up. Reluctantly, I let my eyes peel open, meeting his gaze. "Yes, Aleks?" He paused, lips parting, fingers digging into my skin as he regarded me with startling awe, as if he had temporarily forgotten that I was his. I raised a brow. He cleared his throat, eyes flickering away as he collected his thoughts. "The sobachka," he paused at my dirty look, pulling me closer with an air of possessiveness before relenting, " _Nikolai_ , he and his army will be at our door in less than two days. And I decided it would be best if... I've had our army mobilize in case your negotiations turn sour." He paused again, most likely to gauge my reaction.

_In case your negotiations turn sour._

I hadn't so much as dared to think of the possibility.

My stomach turned sickeningly, this time not from the illness. Now Ivan's taunts made perfect sense.

"How could you do that without telling me?" I drew away from his touch as if he had burned me, my hands clenching into fists. He held the intensity of my glare with a tired emptiness that only made the sting of his actions worse. "You promised no more of these fucking plays for power, you kept things from me again! You made me look like an idiot!" I snapped, anger mixing with frustration at the injustice of it all. Fate must be cruel, must be laughing at me for keeping me in this horrible position when I had no idea how to keep everything from going to hell. "Alina, I did what I had to do," he cautiously interjected in response to my furious silence, leaning forward in an effort to pull me back into him. "Bullshit, Aleks!" I shoved his chest backwards, the temptation to hit him across his perfect face almost too great to resist. His hand shot out, he seized my wrist as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had turned. "Alina, I won't lose you again!" he snapped, his chest rising and falling almost erratically, "I can't. I won't. Even if I have to kill every last one of them I won't let them take you away from me." 

Everything went deadly still at his words. His eyes widened slightly in realization.

The anger had faded now, a hot coal reduced to a cold lump of stone weighing heavily in the pit of my stomach. "They're my friends," I softly spoke, the pain was too great to say any more. This was the reality that I had been avoiding for so, so long. I fell into his chest, my hand gripping onto his shirt and twisting roughly into the fabric. He held me just as tightly, the desperation I felt mirrored in his touch. "Alina." The way he said my name was too much. "I love you, Aleksander, but-" A sob released from my throat, the sudden swell of emotion too powerful to suppress. "Shhh, solnishka," he soothed gently, attempting to brush away the hot tears already relentlessly spilling down my cheeks. "I don't want to lose you either," I whimpered, the words painful in their actuality. The feeling of his breath whispered over my lips as he pulled me closer, his mouth grazing against mine. "You won't." His response was firm, assured, but I knew by now how to detect when he didn't believe his own words. It felt like shattering into a million pieces, hearing the sheer uncertainty underlying his voice.

Aleksander Morozova was always in control. And he wasn't now.

Every gasping breath hurt like a knife in my lungs, my hands trembling. Panic seized in my chest. I was hyperventilating, black dots swarming across my vision as I gasped for air. "Alina, breathe," he instructed evenly, his free hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. It wasn't fair, but when had life ever been fair to us? My unstable breathing gradually slowed under his gentle direction, the only things keeping me grounded being his calm voice and the soft press of his skin. "Promise me I won't lose you, Aleks." It was ridiculous at best, asking him to promise me a concrete outcome amidst the unknown future. But I needed to hear this whispered confidence, or I might very likely fall apart here in his arms. He cupped my cheeks, silver eyes that I so deeply loved filled with an honest, raw sincerity.

"You won't lose me, Alina. My heart will always be yours."

***

The hallways were hectic with the heavy burden of war, everywhere I looked there seemed to be a new weapon being carted through or a slew of armed soldiers rushing to their assigned sector. I moved through the stream of soldiers and Grisha like a ghost, silent and nearly invisible in the midst of the chaos. Tension hung thick in the air, the foreboding presence of imminent war spurring every collective thought and action, no one was thinking of anything but the threat drawing closer to our door every second. "Moya tsaritsa, the Darkling has requested to see you in his office," a serf girl scurried up to me as I walked, frantically bowing as she tried to keep up with my brisk pace. "Tell him I'll be there momentarily," I waved her away, sending her hastily darting back the way she came.

My attention was hyper focused on the grand window that overlooked the courtyard, a sense of dread growing with every step at what I would find. My footsteps slowed, echoing softly on the cold marble as I came to a stop in front of the immaculately clear glass. Not a single speck of dust hindered my vision of what was occurring beneath me. Soldiers, carts of weapons, guns, grisha in brightly speckled numbers milling through the thick of olive and brown. All of it filling every inch of space from the palace doors all the way out to the gilded gates sparkling in the afternoon light. It suddenly felt hard to breath. This wasn't speculation or arguments anymore, this was real, this was tangible, this was soldiers ready to fight and kill at the word of the man that I loved. I leaned forward against the window sill, my eyes shutting tightly. It felt like a dream, this reality. If things had gone differently, would I be on the other side of this conflict right now, fighting against Aleksander alongside my friends? Not realizing that the one person in the universe that could understand me I had made into my villain instead?

To most, he was still the villain of the story.

If only people could see what he showed me. Aleksander Morozova, the boy who just wanted to protect his kind after those he had loved had been slaughtered for gifts they never asked to receive.

I swept back the hair from my neck, straightening my posture and squaring my shoulders in a confident manner. Giving up now wouldn't help anything. I still had a chance to fix all of this madness.

I twirled on my heels, my strides long and purposeful as I made my way towards Aleksander's office. It wasn't long before I was standing in front of the stained black door, pushing it open without knocking. The first sight of him left me breathless, as always. He was bent over the table, reviewing a stack of papers with Ivan by his side. Dark hair was falling into his eyes, the perfect sculpt of his jawline on full display. He looked up at the sound of me entering, quartz eyes darkening with intensity as he took me in. I stood motionless, hardly daring to breath. "Station them overnight, I want a full time lookout at the edge of the village," Aleksander finally cleared his throat, looking away from me and tapping the document pointedly for Ivan. Ivan nodded in response, murmuring something low to him before he gathered up the papers, leaving the room in a flurry that mirrored the chaos of the rest of the palace.

My teeth found my lower lip as the door clicked shut behind us. Aleksander gazed at me from behind his desk, the air crackling with a silent intensity brimming with challenge. Who would be the first to crack? Despite my efforts, my cheeks were slowly heating with a soft blush. Saints, the way he was looking at me was enough to leave me begging for him. Today could be the last day we had together, or it could be the beginning of our eternity. And I wanted every piece of him up until the very last second we would be forced to be brought back to reality.

"Aleks."

At the sound of his name, he moved as quickly as his shadows, in the span of a second I was shoved against the door, his lips on mine and his hands grasping anywhere and everywhere he could find. This wasn't anything even remotely close to the intimacy that we had previously shared. This was startlingly primal, desperate and wild and agonizing and hands clawing at skin, rough edges and painful clarity. His lips dragged down the slope of my neck, leaving a wildfire of heat that spread quickly throughout my body straight to my very core. I fisted a handful of his hair, weaving my fingers through the strands as his teeth grazed my pulse, marking it with a stinging bite and a press of lips as though he was claiming my life as his. But in fact, everything, all of me, was his, and in turn, all of him belonged to me. How could I have ever thought anything different? His hips rocked against mine, causing a startled moan to escape my lips at the increase in pressure, a familiar ache forming between my legs. He removed his hand from my waist, relieving the bruising grip for a brief moment. I registered the soft click of the door locking before his hands were on me again, picking me up with ease. A gasp left my lips as I instinctually straddled his torso, the throbbing ache sparking into a shock of electricity.

We left a trail of clothes in our wake, I tore his shirt from his lean shoulders and he ripped my blouse and pants in two fluid movements. His mouth was hard against mine, insistent, unrelenting. He wanted just as much from me as I did from him, and I was certain we would drown in each other before either one of us would stop. My back hit the hard wood of his desk, papers flying and spilling to the floor. His tongue swiped over my lower lip, parting them to give him entrance as he made quick work of the rest of my undergarments. I was already dripping, my legs clenching together on instinct at the slickness of my inner thighs. I could barely keep up with him, my breaths coming in desperate pants against his mouth as I fumbled with his belt, the buckle somehow suddenly unfathomably difficult to unclasp. "Alina," he rasped, the vibration echoing through every fiber of my being, making me whimper in response. His cool hands pressed over mine, guiding my movement until the belt was on the floor, and then his pants, and then before I could even stop to breathe he was inside of me and completing me in every single wildly animalistic way.

My fingernails sunk into his back, pulling him into me, my back arching into his hard strokes. His lips collided with my neck, his tongue darting from his lips and gliding over my burning skin in lazy circles. Pleasure spilled over every inch of me like warm water, uncontrollable moans pouring out of me as his thrusts increased in pace. " _Aleksander_ ," I spoke his name like a curse, my legs clenching tightly around his torso, anything to get him closer to me. He captured my waist in his grip, tilting my hips up to meet his and sinking deeper inside of me, making me cry out. Light shattered the darkness of the room, meeting the edges of his slithering shadows and entangling as perfectly as our bodies, the true, physical manifestation of balance.

My hands slammed against the desk, papers crumpling under me as my body twisted underneath him, more light tumbling off of my skin in glowing rays. The skin to skin contact was too much, I could have burned the whole palace down with the feeling scorching through my veins. The sun might as well have been trapped underneath my skin, the blazing ecstasy more intense than ever before.

"I-I'm close, saints, Aleks," I moaned, clutching at his lean, muscled shoulders with newfound ferocity. "I know, solnishka," he rasped, almost a moan in return as he continued to thrust deep inside me, almost to my very limit. My body trembled with tension as I squeezed my eyes shut, I could feel my heat rising every second, devastatingly close to the brink. "P-please," I begged, clenching around him as he fucked me harder, grasping at every inch of my skin as if it was the last time he would ever get to feel me against him. "Now, Alina," he hissed. My eyes flew open, a scream building in my throat as he pushed me over the edge alongside him, agonizing pleasure making me writhe uncontrollably as it spread throughout every inch of my body. I fell apart over and over again, the orgasm relentless in the sheer intensity of it, so much so that I was seeing black. "I love you, Aleksander." The words were raw, and even in his silence in the face of my total vulnerability, it felt right. It felt like perfection, no other word could describe it. We came back down in a whirlwind of gasping breaths and damp skin, my lips finding his, the contact slowly grounded me back into my own body. He pulled away first, his slate gray eyes finding mine, a silent message glimmering in their depths.

His heart was mine, and nothing could take that away from us. The monster with a heart of darkness had become human again, and that man was the love of my entire existence, my entire eternity.

We fell asleep curled in each other's arms underneath the desk.

We didn't hear the sound of the alarms. Nor the telltale noises of the beginnings of battle.

Not until Ivan himself came screaming into the office did we wake to see the war had already begun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fat cliffhanger whatcha gonna do 
> 
> also last smut scene of this fic how do you feel don't cry it'll be okay 
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos, it inspires me to keep writing and improving for you guys :)


	39. we can still salvage this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is... well *ahem* I wouldn't read it in public. that is my official warning
> 
> also, I will be expanding on this after the events of the next few chapters unfold, but all I ask is that you trust me. we've gotten this far, right? 
> 
> also this chapter is short. because... reasons.

"Moi tsar! They're here!"

The undeniable, sheer panic in Ivan's voice immediately pulled me from the shroud of sleep, I shot up with a gasp, adrenaline already zipping through my veins and my heart pounding in my throat. My embarrassment that I was in nothing more than Aleksander's shirt was fleeting once I registered the raw terror in Ivan's eyes. "Their army is here! They've knocked down the gates, we need the nichevo'ya!" Ivan panted, his attention frantically flickering to the window and back. I could dimly hear the sounds of screams, the spray of bullets on pavement.

My heart felt as if it had dropped to the very pits of my stomach. 

Aleksander promptly shot up next to me, almost immediately alert as he sprang to his feet, already throwing on his clothes. He made a flicking gesture with his fingers, ordering coldly, "Go, Ivan, make yourself useful. This will be over the second we step out onto those grounds." Ivan didn't hesitate to question him, racing out of the room immediately at the order.

There would be no negotiating. We had missed our chance.

A fractured sob fell from my lips as I roughly pulled on my clothes, the feeling of hopelessness that ensued overwhelming in its entirety. I had _failed_. Aleksander, now fully clothed, pressed his hands to my cheeks, making me look up at him. His silver eyes were startling in their sincerity. "I have ordered your Lanstov boy not to be killed, we can still salvage this," he promised gravely, taking my hand in his large one. I nodded despite the emptiness hollowing out my chest, passively letting him pull me out of the room alongside him. As we flew down the flight of stairs hand in hand, oprichniki at our heels with guns at the ready, I caught sight of the nichevo'ya decimating the courtyard through the expansive window. Had the creatures already slaughtered one of my friends? Torn innocent Soldat Sol to shreds? I couldn't dwell on it, not now.

The palace doors slammed open at the hand of Aleksander's shadows, immediately revealing the war torn courtyard screaming with chaos. My eyes were almost instantly drawn to Nikolai, fighting off three soldiers at once and still managing to look perfectly at ease. He looked exceedingly disheveled but otherwise unharmed, and, to use his own words, _damnably handsome_. The nichevo'ya, as always, were devastatingly effective at decimating their numbers, but it seemed the West Ravkans had developed a new weapon in their defense, bombs of contained fire that they hurled, effectively disintegrating the creatures within seconds in a haze of unearthly screams. Probably another one of David's ingenious inventions.

A gust of wind almost knocked me off of my feet, making me stumble heavily as a West Ravkan Squaller in deep blue barreled towards us. Aleksander righted me, time seeming to slow as he met my gaze. He raised his palm, his eyes never leaving mine as tendrils of slithering shadows brewed at his fingertips before shooting out to apprehend her. They circled her wrists and ankles, binding and bringing her to her knees otherwise unharmed despite her wild struggle.

_He is a different man now._

My doubts flickered out of existence. I let go of his hand, breaking away from him and making my way to the edge of the top of the grand staircase. It felt like a strange, blurry dream as I clapped my hands together, blindingly bright light blanketing the courtyard, searing into my vision. I was met with the sound of screams, though I wasn't quite sure if they were from fear or relief. Gradually, the explosion of light and heat faded, revealing an eerie stillness that had settled between the two warring armies. Every single eye was trained on me.

"Alina!"

The relieved sob of Genya's voice was almost enough to bring me to my knees. The warmth that bloomed in my chest at the sight of her was overwhelming, tears brimmed unstably at the edge of my vision. She looked like the true embodiment of a lick of flame in her bright Corporalki kefta, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and perfectly glossy even in the middle of battle. "Hey Genya," I greeted her softly, the emotion in my voice barely restrained. She smiled in return, as if we weren't standing on two different sides of this war.

My attention was immediately diverted by Nikolai as he stepped forward, guns still hovering at his sides. "Alina, what is this," he asked, his voice wavering the slightest measure. When I met his clever eyes, I immediately knew he had figured everything out. "Those negotiations were true, we want to make peace," I spoke more confidently than I felt. Aleksander's presence shifted behind me, but he didn't say a word. Nikolai looked between me and him, eyes flickering back and forth between the pair of us, as if confirming it with his own eyes. "We?" he softly uttered. I stood motionlessly, I could hardly breathe. I had had nightmares about this very moment for seemingly endless months, ever since I had admitted my feelings to Aleksander. "You're in love with him?" Nikolai finally worded, the hostility of the question clear in the accusatory edge to his tone. Slowly, I nodded, my trembling fingers clenching at the fabric of my shirt in an effort to still them. A new tension hung over the quieted battle, the quiet almost deafening.

"Alina, no," Genya finally broke the silence, her words almost a cry with pained betrayal. I couldn't help but flinch.

"We can have peace," I had to force myself not to whisper, to find strength and conviction behind my words.

"No, we can't."

This time it was Zoya who spoke, hands clenched into fists and eyes narrowed in anger. Her boot was digging into the chest of one of our soldiers, she had the wheezing man pinned firmly to the ground with no sign of letting him go. "We can't because none of you are willing to try," I shot back, feeling my body hum with warmth in correlation with my frustration, "Would you really rather send more innocent people to their deaths? No matter your differences, you owe this to the countless individuals you killed and sacrificed up until this very second. We have a chance to end this, right now." Nikolai chuckled, a bitter laugh that sent a knife through my heart. I had never heard a colder sound leave his lips.

There was a beat of pure stillness before he spoke. "I suppose you've forgotten all of the times he tried to enslave you," he spoke conversationally despite the venom to his words, "The time he killed my brother, decimated a village, mutilated your best friend, would you like me to go on?" My gaze flickered briefly to Aleksander behind me. He was impassive, guarded, shadows flickering at his fingertips. But through the tether, I could feel an echo of pain that we both burdened in an equal amount of dull agony. "People change, Nikolai, you know that fact better than anyone else," I responded evenly, "Not that I condone anything that he's done, saints, it makes me sick to think about. But who were the one's that came to you with the armistice? He wrote it out himself, he's willing to compromise with you." The air crackled with something like anticipation. "He's brainwashed you somehow," Nikolai finally shook his head, eyes mournful, "I promise you Alina, we'll save you from him." He brought his fingers to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle as some sort of signal.

At the sound the battle exploded into chaos once again, as if someone had hit unpause on the world.

My knees felt weak, I stumbled back, quickly halted by Aleksander's steady hand. I had just failed. Officially, spectacularly, irreversibly so.

My inhale was ragged.

Aleksander and I could easily kill them all with a joint stroke of darkness and light. But he couldn't ask me to do that. I wouldn't do it. Soldiers flooded towards our position atop of the stairs in a menacing wave. The shadows twisted around the both of us, pushing them back and immobilizing them one by one with chains made of darkness. Again, though I could see the clear effort of restraint in his movement, Aleksander inflicted no further harm upon them. Even in the middle of this madness, I felt a swell of pride. He had promised me no more mindless death.

_I don't make empty promises, Alina._

The brief moment of lightness was short lived as suddenly, I was staring at the end of Nikolai's gun pointed straight at Aleksander, angled up directly toward Aleksander's head from where Nikolai stood at the bottom of the staircase. "Nikolai, stop, don't shoot!" I shot my hand out, heat licking at my fingertips. Aleksander and I weren't wearing keftas, they were back in his chambers, forgotten in the whirlwind events of this morning. He had survived countless attempts on his life, but a bullet to his head? Aleksander had stilled, he looked to me out of the corner of his eye. Nikolai slowly shifted his gaze, aim unsteady as he met my stare. "Please, he's not going to hurt anybody anymore, I promise you," I begged, "We can end this war right now."

He nodded slowly. "We can."

His finger tightened over the trigger.

"Aleksander!" I involuntarily screamed his name with raw terror. Time moved at a slow crawl, I lurched forward in a wild effort to push him out of harms way.

The definitive sound of two gunshots in quick, sure succession rang in my ears.

 

Everything quieted.

 

I looked down. I saw the blood spreading through my clothes before I felt anything.

"Alina, _no_!"

The scream was more horrible and devastating than anything I had ever heard, but why? Had that been Aleksander? The clear desolation to it was so unlike him. My head was spinning, I pressed my hands to the pools of red spreading over my chest and stomach, like forgotten paint spills that had previously been full to the brim. My legs collapsed out from under me and suddenly I was looking up at the dim gray of the sky. When had I become so weak? My thoughts were utter chaos and confusion but somehow there was a peaceful stillness that I embraced within them, a gentle whisper of comfort that cradled me and kissed my skin. And then Aleksander's beautiful face blotted out my view of the dull clouds, his lips parted with silent screams. Dim pain was starting to surface at the edges of my consciousness, but I brushed away the sensation, smiling as I gazed up at him, tracing the perfect lines of his face with lidded eyes. Blood stained my hand as I reached up, brushing my fingers over his cheek. It was damp with tears.

"I love you, Aleks."

When had it become so hard to talk? The words were strained and felt unnaturally heavy on my tongue.

Darkness was seeping in at the corners of my vision, cold and absolute, but this was somehow different from Aleksander's darkness, which had become so familiar to me now. The muted pain was coming back more strongly than before, I could distantly feel the sensation of blood slick against my skin. When had existing become so painful? I felt Aleksander's hand grasp for mine, my ears ringing with the volume of his almost unintelligible cries. I forced myself to focus for a brief second, back to pain and reality.

"I love you, Alina, don't leave me! _I love you_!"

A dull flicker of recognition resounded in my chest at the words before quickly fading. The world was turning into soft edges, my senses blurring as my breaths rattled in my lungs.

I was so tired. Why was I resisting? My eyes closed, I happily let myself succumb to the overwhelming exhaustion. Darkness spilled into my mind, filling me with cold water and distant, glimmering stardust and the promise of tranquility.

 

Everything stilled.

 

It was then, with the love of her life holding her and screaming the words that he had finally become strong enough to speak aloud, that Alina Starkov's heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry


	40. listen closely sobachka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up late like every night getting this chapter edited and finished, so I hope you forgive me for the events of the last chapter with this early update!
> 
> I don't want it to end!! im crying someone comfort me
> 
> songs to listen to: Lost Without You by Freya Ridings and I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young

_"No, you can't.. you can't leave me. You can't just leave. Alina, please! Please don't go, I don't want to be alone. Just wake up, please, I'm here, I love you!_ _Alina!"_

_\--_

It seemed as if the whole country had halted to hold a collective breath, a silent prayer on the lips of all of those in Ravka as they prayed for their Sankta Alina, the saint of the people. The war had stalled, a forgotten, empty conflict as everyone waited to hear any word of her fate.

No one wanted Alina Starkov to die.

Aleksander's P.O.V

Blood. It was everywhere, blurring ugly red across my vision, stained into my skin.

_For the possibly first time, the blood on his hands was from a life he had tried to save, not one that he had taken._

Alina's blood was all I could see, I was drowning in it. It was startlingly dark against her sickly pale skin, her hand was limp as I clutched it in my grasp. I was shaking. I couldn't remember how to breathe. Healers wildly stumbled around me, frantically trying to save the love of my saints forsaken existence laying lifelessly on the stark white infirmary cot. I had witnessed countless people die in my lifetime, I knew the feeling like an old friend. Over time it had become increasingly easy to distinguish the signs of what the brink of death looked like.

Alina was dangling at the very edge. 

"Her heart keeps stopping, the bullet went straight through her left ventricle and the other is still lodged in her stomach."

I could feel her weak pulse fluttering against my fingertips, faltering for brief moments as the Healers continually revived her. Her lips were parted, stained red with thin rivulets spilling down from the corner of her mouth. Foreign hands were everywhere, desperately working to mend her heart, to remove the bullet, to stop the unimaginably large amount of blood still streaming from the wounds in seemingly endless pools. And all I could do was stand and watch uselessly, clutching at her hand and silently screaming for her golden eyes to _just open already._

My vision blurred. Slowly, I sunk to my knees beside her, my head falling limply against the graceful slope of her shoulder. 

"I'm so, so sorry, all of this is.... all of this is _my fault_. It's all because of me." No one was listening, the Healers were arguing and running in and out of the room grabbing pots of unknown substances that didn't seem to be helping. Alina didn't move.

"I should have said it sooner." An uncomfortable ache formed in my throat; how did every inch of me manage to hurt so _badly?_ "I should have spent every day giving you all of me, letting you know that I'm so utterly, completely in love with you, so much so that it hurts when I'm away from you, that every time you walk into a room it feels like I can't breathe, that I feel like some semblance of a man when you look at me. I'm sorry for it all, for every fucked up thing I did, but I love you Alina Starkov, you've changed me in every single profound, conceivable way. I know I don't deserve you, I know losing you could very well be retribution for everything that I've done. But I'll die without you, I swear, I can't go on without you by my side. I won't. So please, come back to me." My voice cracked, the unfamiliar sting of tears threatening at the edges of my vision.

The thought of spending the rest of my eternity, centuries upon centuries, without her, was cataclysmic. I couldn't be alone again. I couldn't survive without her, without her sun and light to dispel the darkness wrought through every fiber of my being. I blinked, lifting my head up from the soft press of her skin, desperately trying to memorize the beautiful planes of her face, the perfect curve of her lips, the dark curl of her lashes, her shock of silky white hair spilling across the pillow.

"Moi tsar, with all due respect, if you want her to live, we need you out of the room," a Healer nervously spoke, her hands spattered with flecks of blood. I forced myself to breathe, to speak, though my voice was painfully hoarse. "Only if you promise me that she survives." She shifted under my stare, her gaze flickering from me to Alina's limp body several times. "I can't promise that, but you are only hindering our progress by being in the way," she clasped her hands. Again, that horrible feeling of utter _uselessness,_ there was nothing I could do to stop her from leaving me. It took all of my strength to pull away, not before placing a soft kiss against Alina's cool knuckles. My thoughts turned dark. "Save her," I stood up, storming from the room.

There was someone I owed some words to.

***

Nikolai's P.O.V

I paced a few feet outside of the door of the infirmary, guilt almost debilitating as it clawed at my insides.

 _I had shot her. I had shot Alina_.

The words kept ringing in my mind repeatedly, a sharp hiss that was driving me mad. I had always thought I would do anything for Ravka, anything for the good of my country. But this, I couldn't do this, I couldn't live with this. She couldn't die. I avoided walking anywhere near any of the collection of individuals sitting on the steps, pale and silent and crying in shock. Genya was sobbing, David desperately trying to comfort her. Tamar and Tolya were standing huddled together, murmuring low words of prayer, Nadia clutching at Tamar's hand. Zoya and Harshaw were silent, unimaginably still and staring listlessly at the ground.

 _I shot her_. Alina Starkov, the one who never asked to be caught in the middle of this war, but now could very well die because of it.

What would I tell Sasha? How could I live with myself?

My face sunk into my hands, my fingers digging painfully into my skin.

 _She'll be okay, she'll okay, she'll be okay_.

I whispered to myself as I paced, the mere feeling of my lips forming the words mildly comforting. As if me saying it enough would suddenly make it become a reality. I was quite tempted to barge into the infirmary myself, to demand to know how she was doing, but the look on the Darkling's face as he carried her in his arms was enough to keep me waiting anxiously outside.

The door slammed open.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

We all quieted, tension hanging thick in the air. His stare fastened to me, the darkness in his eyes making me instinctually reach for my guns at my hip. I barely processed the sight of shadows shooting from his pale fingertips before they were around my neck, tightening like a noose as his hand slowly clenched into a fist. My breath was quickly nothing but strangled wheezes, pain crawling down my throat and taking ahold of my lungs in a viselike grip. Dimly, I registered the sensation of my feet lifting off of the ground, amplifying the hazy sense of panic, black spots dancing across my vision. He stopped a foot away from me, hand outstretched and tightened into a fist white with tension, nothing but the chilling black of murder in his eyes. Was he going to kill me? Was this how I would die? I clawed at the shadows, my fingers grasping blindly at the cold, slithering darkness as I wildly struggled. The sound of his voice was muted, impossibly far away, but managed to break through the dull roar of the blood rushing in my ears.

"Listen closely, _sobachka_. If she dies because of you, I promise you, you will spend every single day of the rest of your miserable life wishing you had shot yourself through your own disgusting, pathetic head instead. Death will be your only mercy, and I am not known for being _merciful_."

Finally, his hand uncurled, the shadows releasing me and dropping me to the hard ground. Searing pain burned in my throat as I coughed uncontrollably from my crumpled position, my lungs on fire. My vision was blurry, I struggled to even prop myself up onto my elbows. "Can I see her?" I spoke hoarsely, a painful cough wracking my chest. It was all that mattered to me, I didn't care if I was pathetic at this point.

 _I had shot her_.

The Darkling was silent, a dangerous, frightening coldness to his features. "If you step into that room, I will turn you into a volcra and condemn you to a life scavenging on the Fold like the worthless animal you are." The threat was nothing more than a low hiss. My body and lungs screamed in protest as slowly, I crawled to my feet, the world twisting around me in a dizzying haze. "Just let me see her-" 

I dimly recognized the arc of his fist a mere second before it connected with my cheek, pain exploding against the side of my face as my neck snapped to the right with the force of the punch. I staggered backwards, an involuntary groan escaping my mouth as I sunk back to my knees. I looked up at him in disbelief. Had the most powerful Grisha in the world just _punched_ me in the face? My cheekbone and eye socket were swarming with agony, already swelling and hot to the touch. "You lost the right to so much as look at her when you _shot her_ ," he spat. I pressed a hand to my nose trying to stifle the faucet of blood now dribbling down my lips. The murder was slowly fading from his eyes, something almost even more frightening replacing it. "You shot her," he repeated, his voice cracking over the last word. It was startling, to say the least, and despite the seething agony of my lungs and the side of my face, the pain of what he had just said was so, so much worse.

For once in my life, I was at a loss for words, solely because _he was right_. I was the one that had hurt her.

I had proudly paraded my self righteousness around, claiming to be the leader of the self proclaimed 'good side', when really I was no better than the Darkling himself. 

I watched silently, blood cascading through my fingers and one eye swollen shut, making no move to stop him as he stalked away. 

***

Aleksander's P.O.V

Three days. It had been three days that the love of my life had been laying unconscious on that damned hospital bed. _Unresponsive_ , they had said. _Wait and pray for a miracle_ , they said. My hand was shaking as I grasped for the handle to the infirmary. It was excruciating, coming day after day foolishly hoping that when I would open the door she would be sitting up staring back at me, a smile turning her perfect lips. _Aleksander, you're late_ , she would say with a teasing tilt of her head. I pushed the door open, feeling my chest tighten as I dully registered the activity in the room. Two Healers stationed on either side of her, positions that rotated hourly to ensure that they stayed awake and alert in case her precarious condition worsened. Then Alina laying on the stark white cot, unmoving and eyes shut. My jaw clenched, I cursed the sliver of hope that had worked its way into my heart yet again. I could hear my mother's voice, a low hiss as she scolded me with one of her many constant, harsh reminders.

_Hope is the worst of all evils, it only prolongs the torment of men. Are you going to be a man, Aleksander, or something greater?_

"How are her vitals," I toned emotionlessly, locking every emotion and feeling tightly away in the dark, cavernous emptiness of my chest. I couldn't admit any more weakness than I already had, even if seeing her this way felt like dying a hundred times over with every single breath I took. The Healer that responded didn't meet my gaze. "She's relatively stable, her heart hasn't stopped again since last night, but her lack of responsiveness is increasingly concerning. We could have healed her heart incorrectly. And her other wounds, well..." The Corporalki cleared her throat, shifting nervously, "It doesn't look good. At this point, all we can do is wait and pray that she wakes up. It's up to her now." My fingers flexed with tension. I knew if I replied, I might crumble to pieces again, my self control had been previously lost somewhere within the dark void of my own endless grief. All I could do was give her a stiff nod before diverting my attention back to Alina, finding the chair by her side and sinking into it.

"Good morning, solnishka." It hurt to speak, not to hear her say the words back to me accompanied by an affectionate smile. I grasped for her cool hand, using my free one to dig into my kefta, producing a fresh white rose from my pocket. "You had better wake up soon before all of these start dying," I forced a dry laugh, placing the new flower onto her pillow next to the succession of increasingly wilted roses. She remained motionless, her weak pulse sluggish against the press of my fingers. I would have given anything to hear her laugh again, to call me insufferable or arrogant or an idiot.

It was too much.

I shot up from my seat, letting her hand fall back against the sheets. It felt as if I wasn't in control of my body, my hands trembling as I rushed from the room in wild, frantic steps. I couldn't be there for another second, I couldn't bear it for another second, staring into the face of the possibility that Alina Starkov could die without ever hearing me say that I loved her. The door slammed open at my hand, I couldn't see with the tears blurring my vision.

_Weak._

The word was a gentle hiss, a gleaming dagger in my chest. I had been wrong before, so, so unbelievably wrong. I had thought she was my weakness, I had resented her for that very fact, denied my emotions for so long because, after all, there was no absolute power when one still had ties of vulnerability. But I was wrong, more wrong than I had ever been in my whole entire life. I was weak, but not because of her, I was weak _without_ her. She was strength, she was compassion, she was everything that I wasn't. 

She was _everything_.

I stumbled a few yards down the darkened adjacent hallway before collapsing to my knees.

Genya's P.O.V

"Sasha, no one is allowed to see her," Nikolai insisted weakly, looking to me with a _help me_ expression. I sighed, kneeling down so I was level with Sasha's short stature. She looked at me with sad blue eyes, hugging Nikolai's hand tight into her chest. "We all want to go visit Alina, but she's not feeling very well and needs some alone time so she can get better, okay?" I sighed heavily. The thought of my best friend laying dying in a bed was something I was desperately avoiding thinking about. Sasha frowned, her lips pouting with an indignant shake of her head. "I want to go," she stubbornly mumbled, looking away in the direction of the infirmary. Nikolai tapped a finger against his lips thoughtfully. "He did say he would only rip _me_ apart if I went and saw her," he chuckled half heartedly with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Sasha's eyes lit up. Nikolai raised a brow at me. "I'll take her and see," I relented, offering my hand to Sasha. Her lips broke out into a blinding smile as she latched onto my arm.

"I can't wait to see miss Alina and Mr. Darkling, its been forever and ever and ever," she babbled practically incoherently as we began to make our way up the stairs. I chewed on the inside of my cheek nervously. Speaking to the Darkling was not exactly in my top ten list of things I was looking forward to doing, but there was no way to Alina without going through him first. The foreboding air of the nichevo'ya didn't help my shot nerves, their silent, eerie presence intimidating as they moved about the palace roof and darted restlessly around in the sky high above us. In the past couple of days they had calmed somewhat from the wild frenzy from when Alina had first been shot, but even so, half the palace grounds had been destroyed anyways in the short time the Darkling had sat by her side before emerging and attacking Nikolai.

"Mr. Darkling!"

I was snapped from my thoughts, my stare fastening on the darkened hallway Sasha was peering down in excitement. A crumpled form, swathed in shadow, was leaning back against the wall. The Darkling. The anger that burned hot in my chest at the sight of him was as intense as ever, my scars itching in reminder of my hatred. Sasha wormed her way out of my grip, already moving towards him. "Sasha, wait!" I fumbled to grab for her hand again, but she was already out of my reach, slipping away easily and running to the man that everyone seem to fear except for her. I stood frozen, watching.

Aleksander's P.O.V

"Mr. Darkling!"

A familiar, childlike voice filled with such innocence and enthusiasm the debilitating pain that wrought through every fiber of my being almost seem to fade for a moment. My eyes ached in protest as I opened them, looking up at her through swollen lids.

Sasha.

Her smile faded slightly as she stood in front of me uncertainly, taking in the plainly broken state I was far too exhausted to hide. "Hello, little one," I hoarsely rasped, a bitter smile pulling at my lips. Alina would have been positively elated to see the little girl she had been missing so terribly for months now.

A second wave of emotion crested over me, silent tears streaking down my face in renewed fervor.

She shifted on her feet, looking at me uncertainly under light blonde lashes. "Mr. Darkling, do you want a hug?" The question left me reeling with grief, I drew in a ragged breath before forcing myself to calm. It had been centuries since anyone but Alina had gotten that close to me.

"Yes." My voice cracked.

In a blink she had knelt down, throwing her tiny arms around me and snuggling into my chest. "It's okay, I'll even play dolls with you so you'll feel better," she spoke in muffled words against my shirt. I held her back just as tightly, working to slow my silent sobs and take comfort in the little girl that somehow seemed to love and accept me despite everything the world had told her. It was no wonder that Alina loved her so much, the two of them were so alike in their pure naivety. Her tiny fingers dug into my shoulders as she pulled back, patting my cheek lightly. I tried not to flinch away from the contact, instead forcing my lips upwards in a weak smile. "Can I see miss Alina? I want to give this to her," she produced a crumpled paper from her pocket, unfolding it with tiny fingers and smoothing it out to show me. A crude drawing done in bright colors detailing stick figure versions of me, Alina, Sasha, and Nikolai, all holding hands as if we were some sort of family. All I could do was stare at it, my throat constricting painfully. "I'll take you tomorrow to see her, how about that," I struggled to speak, my words a mere whisper. She tilted her head thoughtfully in consideration before nodding in agreement, "Okay, Mr. Darkling." There was a beat of silence as she studied me openly with childlike curiosity.

"Do you love miss Alina now? Did you make her your princess yet?"

I let out something between a laugh and a sob, taking her tiny hands within my own. "Yes, Sasha, I made her my princess and I love her more than anything in this whole world. And hopefully miss Alina will get better very, very soon so we can live happily ever after in our big castle." She giggled, a jolt of surprise making me tense as she threw her arms back around me, squeezing me as tightly as her little body was able. "And then we can finally be a big, happy family, all together," she sighed in content. I couldn't help but hug her back again. Her guileless positivity somehow had given me the barest trace of hope again within the overwhelming chasm of darkness.

_So stricken with grief, the normal watchfulness of Aleksander Morozova had become a forgotten concern. And so naturally, he didn't realize that a certain red haired Corporalki with gruesome scars inflicted upon her face had been eavesdropping on the whole entirety of the conversation._

_She was the first to come to the realization that the Darkling may not be as heartless as he had so tirelessly made everyone come to believe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos to make me feel better because im sad im gonna miss you guys and this story ugh :(


	41. how long did you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting down to the end guys! its almost here wow I can't believe its been six months and its about to be over 
> 
> for context, this chapter takes place the day after the previous chapter's events just so there no confusion
> 
> *IMPORTANT author's note at the end, please read!*
> 
> as always, enjoy <3

Aleksander's P.O.V

I ignored the intense burning of stares as I took Sasha's hand, my shoulders rising and falling heavily in my attempts to control my breath. Alina Starkov was mine, I didn't want to share the very reason for my existence with anyone else. But if it had to be anyone, I would pick the little girl standing next to me at this very moment, her picture excitedly clutched in her free hand. Alina's group of friends sat waiting, I could feel their eyes piercing into my back, watching my every move. It took all of the self control I had not to kill them all, particularly the bastard prince who had _shot the love of my life_. My teeth clenched together, my grip tightening around Sasha.

"Mr. Darkling, are you ready? It's okay if you're scared," Sasha looked up at me, her dirty blonde curls bouncing like a halo around her rosy cheeks. The tension in my body fell away. "Let's go in," I nodded with a faint smile, pushing the door open.

Nothing had changed. Alina Starkov lay unconscious in her bed, drowning in a sea of Corporalki red.

My footsteps felt weighted down by lead as I quietly encouraged Sasha over to the side of the cot, offering her my designated chair. She didn't take it, instead letting go of my hand and quickly scrambling up onto the cot, sitting cross legged next to Alina's limp body. I felt my heart twist in jealousy, I immediately pushed the feeling away in shame. "She's sleeping right now," I murmured, tracing my fingertip down the back of Alina's pale hand. The sickly pallor of her skin almost rivaled mine at this point. Sasha frowned slightly, but continued to unfold her drawing before tucking it into the curve of Alina's arm. "I missed you miss Alina, a lot," she sighed, a sadness beyond her years taking over her small features. "I always wished for my mommy back, but now I have you and a real, happy family and I can't wait for you to wake up so we can play princess in the castle with Mr. King Darkling and Prince Niki." My head hung low, I sunk down into my chair, overwhelming exhaustion settling onto my shoulders. I let my eyes shut in misery.

Silence blanketed the room.

And then. Hoarse, but unmistakable.

"I'd love to play with you Sasha."

Alina's P.O.V

It felt like drifting through a nameless sea, the world muffled and blanketed and somehow having the sensation of being blurry despite that fact that all I could see was total darkness. Soothing voices broke through occasionally, one particularly captivating, cool with a soft rasp edging their words. The press of skin would sometimes ground me back into my body, the pain coming into sharp focus until they would pull away, setting me adrift once again.

But now, something had changed.

Light seemed to filter beyond the darkness, subtle but undoubtedly there. The pain in my limbs was more frequent now, rippling over me in lapping waves, concentrated most noticeably in my stomach and chest. The instinct to press my hand against the throbbing sensation wouldn't connect to my limbs, I felt trapped in my own mind, cut off from any control. I tried to flex my fingers, to do something, but my body wouldn't comply.

_Come on Alina, you can do this._

My concentration was immediately shattered at the sound of a small voice, one that ached with familiarity. Words faded in and out, I desperately searched for the names belonging to the two people. My head throbbed, my mouth going dry with exertion.

"I missed you, miss Alina."

A click of recognition.

 _Aleksander_. _Sasha_. I needed to come back to them.

It was like a snap of effect, I could suddenly feel the rise and fall of my chest, the soft whisper of sheets. The crisp, sterile smell of an infirmary filled my nose.

Sasha's words were suddenly crystal clear. I felt a smile turning at my lips. Finally, the movement an agonizing struggle, I opened my eyes. Sasha was sitting on the bed next to me, Aleksander in a chair behind her with his head resting heavy in his hands.

"I'd love to play with you Sasha."

My voice was raspy, grating painfully at my throat, but still effective seeing as every single eye in the room had subsequently landed on me in shock. "You're awake, Sankta!" Sasha broke the silence with a delighted squeal, throwing her arms around me in excitement. I winced, pain blooming across my chest and torso at the sudden pressure of her body on top of mine. A Healer hovering at my left gently chastised her, "Remember she is hurting, little one." Sasha pulled away quickly, biting her lip in apology. Her eyes lit up a split second later as she reached for a piece of crumpled paper, holding it up for me to see. Her very own drawing of me, Aleksander, Sasha, and Nikolai, all holding hands, done in a mixture of scratched ink and waxy color. A smile broke out on my lips. "I love it," I met her expectant gaze, making her return my expression with a wide grin. "It's all of us together as a big family, I get to have two daddies and one mommy," she explained enthusiastically.

My smile quickly faded as my eyes settled onto the individual behind her, finally meeting Aleksander's eyes that were frozen wide with shock. "Hey Sasha, how about you give me and one of your daddies a second in private and then we'll go play," I spoke, trying to keep my tone light and playful. She sighed, but quickly nodded in agreement, sliding off of the edge of the cot and bouncing across the room all the way out the door.

Aleksander still hadn't moved, his fingers clenched around his knees, knuckles white, as he stared at me. "I'm here, Aleks, I'm awake," I softly assured, attempting to push myself up onto my elbows. A tidal wave of pain crashed over me, I sunk back onto the mattress with a soft hiss. "Don't hurt yourself anymore Alina, saints, just-just rest," he finally spoke, his words rushed and jumbled and so unlike his normal calm as he fell to my side, clutching at my hand. I could see the emotion in his eyes, almost startling in its intensity. "I thought I lost you," he breathed, his voice wavering slightly. It was then, the moment I looked down, that I fully realized the extent of my wounds. My shirt had ridden up, exposing the thick bandage wrapped generously around my torso.

I had been shot in the stomach.

Dread was ice cold in my veins.

"Moi soveryeni, if I may interrupt."

My eyes shot to the Healer who had spoken, her hands were twisting nervously in front of her.

Aleksander's gaze hardened. "Speak."

It felt like I couldn't breathe, my hands clutching at my stomach. I knew exactly what she was about to say. My lips parted to stop her, but the words wouldn't come out, caught in my throat. "I was waiting to discuss this until Miss Starkov woke up, she obviously took a bullet to the stomach and sustained heavy internal damage," the Corporalki woman clasped her hands together to still them, her eyes solemn. I scrambled for what to say to keep her from speaking, my head swimming. "Go on," Aleksander impatiently prodded, his grip tightening around my hand.

"Moi soveryeni, we lost the baby. I'm so sorry."

Aleksander froze.

I couldn't look at him as his hand drew back from mine. The silence was deadly.

"The baby." The words were cold, edged with steel. "The baby," he repeated again with the controlled impassiveness I had come to know so well. I couldn't breathe, my throat burning as tears threatened at the edges of my vision. "I'm sorry we couldn't do more, I will leave you to discuss this," the Healer hastily exited, no doubt sensing the dangerous shift in his demeanor, the door quickly slamming shut behind her.

I looked up apprehensively, meeting Aleksander's slate eyes, as chilling as chips of ice.

"How long did you know." There was a barely contained anger to his words, he might as well have been screaming at me. I swallowed hard. "Only a week," I spoke at barely above a soft whisper, almost something like a whimper, "The Healers knew as soon as they checked up me the first day I was sick. I-I made them promise not to tell you, I just didn't know how you would react." He nodded, his eyes closing briefly.

Then, as silent as his shadows, he walked away from me, all the way out the infirmary door.

The tears came hot and unrelenting, accompanied by painful sobs that tore my heart into ugly, fractured pieces.

***

"I'm not saying you look awful, but you've definitely seen better days," Genya laughed teasingly, passing her fingers along my under eyes with a dull itch. "Don't talk to my one true love like that," Nikolai scoffed with an exaggerated affronted look, grabbing for my hand. "And your hair! I almost didn't recognize you when you came out during the battle, its a bold choice," Genya continued, twisting a white lock of hair around her finger before letting it fall back against the bed. I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the smile from my lips as I picked at my nearly liquified food. The last few days had been filled with a steady stream of visitors both checking on me and trying to cheer me up, Nikolai had even visited twice now and escaped unscathed from Aleksander's wrath. Not that Aleksander had come to see me since walking out the day I had woken up. A pang of misery turned at my lips.

I had lost my baby and the father couldn't even be bothered to care.

Almost instinctually, my hands protectively crept to my stomach. Genya and Nikolai both quieted, sensing the dip in my mood almost immediately. "Alina." Genya pressed her hand over mine, her voice soft. "I know you don't understand, I wouldn't ever expect you to, but I love him," I whispered, my eyes burning, "And all I can think about is the life we could have had as a family. He won't even come see me, he hasn't said a word to me since he found out." My thoughts were a wasteland of stolen futures and crushed possibilities, I was drowning in _what if_. Nikolai gripped the edge of my bed, hazel eyes pooled with shame. "I'm so sorry, Alina," he uttered what quite possibly could have been his thousandth apology. Though my heart ached, I couldn't blame Nikolai for his wrongdoings when I loved a man like Aleksander who had frankly done much, much worse than accidentally shoot someone.

"It's okay Nikolai, there's no way you could have known," I sighed, my chest constricting painfully. The words tasted bitter, even if I meant them. He looked away, something like self loathing flashing in his eyes. I paused, desperately searching for any other topic to discuss. "Why don't you tell me what happened in the battle, you've kept me in the dark long enough," I drummed my fingers in my lap, focusing on the way the thin fabric of the sheets bunched and smoothed under my touch. They shared a look before Nikolai shrugged, gesturing for Genya to go ahead.

"The Apparat was killed," Genya smirked, the obvious relish tinging the statement making me raise an eyebrow in question. "You seem very broken up about it," I commented mildly. Nikolai chuckled, shaking his head and pressing his lips together to stifle the sound. I had missed his laugh, it elicited a dull ache deep in my chest that was surprising in its intensity. He startled when I reached for his hand, clutching at it tightly, but didn't protest. "Well, it wasn't like any of us really liked him at all to begin with, he was disgusting and crusty, and then on top of that he was suddenly all ready to kill you for the _cause,_ " Genya spoke in distaste, her lip curling. I sighed, flashing her a playful grin, "I can't even count how many people want to kill me, that's old news Genya." She rolled her eyes before biting down on her lower lip in thought.

"Ivan was killed also," she hesitantly spoke, eyeing me to gauge my reaction to the news, "Did you warm up to him as well?" I snorted. "He and I never really got along," I grimaced slightly. But now in hindsight, how could I blame him any more than the Soldat Sol? He was merely following the man he believed could protect him and the Grisha from torture and persecution, even if he had been extra asshole-ish about it. "The body count was just over a thousand," Nikolai quietly added, fingers twitching in my grip. The pain in my chest was back. I had promised myself no more innocents would die because of me, yet there was now a thousand more bodies, a thousand more deaths weighing on my shoulders. My jaw clenched. "Don't blame yourself Alina, we all had a part to play in this war, you were the only one actually trying to stop it," Genya firmly asserted, sharing a long look with Nikolai that seemed to hold a silent conversation. I looked down at Nikolai's hand grasping mine. His knuckles were callused, his golden skin contrasting with my sickly color. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost him or any of the other people I had loved. Mal had been hard enough.

And yet, a dim voice chimed bitterly at the back of my mind.

_You will lose them all, eventually, just like your baby. You'll have to watch them all die. And there's nothing that you can do to stop it._

My attention was quickly diverted at the sound of the door opening. I looked up to see Aleksander, eyes blank and detached. His gaze slowly landed on Nikolai, then lowered to our hands wound together over the blankets.

"Get out."

The coldness of his voice sent a chill down my spine. I saw Nikolai hesitate, looking to me in confirmation. I nodded back. _I'll be fine._ He let go of my hand, stiffly standing up and brushing himself off, his eyes not leaving mine. "Thank you both for coming," I softly spoke, earning grim smiles from the both of them in response. Both Nikolai and Genya didn't so much as glance Aleksander's way as they left the increasingly tense room. And then there was silence. It's weight was crushing, Aleksander and I stared at each other motionlessly, as if someone had pressed pause on time to draw the horrible moment out for as long as possible. Aleksander was the first to crack.

"How could you not tell me."

My stomach and chest screamed in protest when I laughed in resentment. "Look at your reaction, Aleksander, and convince me that I should have told you." He scoffed, leaning forward slightly, arms tightly folded over his chest, "You think you're _right_? To keep a child from my knowledge as if it didn't belong to me as well?" I would have gotten up and hit him if moving didn't feel like a thousand knives driving into my stomach. My lip curled into a snarl. "Are you serious, Aleksander? Was it too real for you? What would you have done when you found out, carved the baby from my stomach yourself? It's obvious you don't want a child, I mean, why would you ever want to start a family with me, right, the one person in the world that fucking loves and cares about you?" The tension slowly drained from his body, his eyes widening with shock with every subsequent, bitter question I hurled at him.

"You think that I wouldn't have wanted the baby?"

There was such hurt to his question I flinched. Again, terrible silence that said more than words ever could. He was by my side in a second, crouching next to the cot, stark pain glimmering in his eyes. "Alina," he whispered gently. I looked down at him, a single, warm tear spilling over and trailing down my cheek. "There's nothing more I could possibly want than to have a family, with you," he spoke, voice wavering, "The fact that you thought any different hurts me more than anything. And the fact that I didn't know before we lost it..." He trailed off. Slowly, his hands came to a rest over my bandaged stomach, a warmth spreading across my skin at the gentle brush of his touch. I placed my hand over his, a shaky, fractured sob leaving my lips.

"I'm sorry," I finally breathed, my fingers tightly threading through his. He studied me, a wild mixture of emotions curving his rosy lips downwards and crinkling the space between his brows ever so slightly.

"I should have protected you," he whispered, almost faint enough to miss.

Silent tears brimmed in my eyes. "You can't blame yourself, Aleksander. I don't. I don't blame anyone, we were in the middle of a war." His expression hardened. I knew exactly where his thoughts had turned. "Don't blame Nikolai, you've done much worse in serve of your idea of the greater good," I laughed in something like despair. He opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut immediately. There was a moment of his own clear indecision before he sighed, "Fine. But I don't have to like the sobachka. For some reason I automatically seem to despise anyone that hurts you." I caught the glimmer of humor in his eye, fleeting, but present. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. "Speaking of, how are you doing? I heard Ivan was one of the casualties." His eyes cast down, he shrugged, but the movement look labored. "He would have died in time, just like all of the rest. Maybe it was for the best, he was adamantly against negotiating and your idea of peace. I taught him too well, it seems," he flashed a wry smile, standing up and nudging me over so he could lay down next to me on the sheets.

"A better pupil than I was then," I settled into his chest, savoring the feeling of him pressed against me. I had missed him more than I would ever admit, even being away from him for a couple of days had been torturous.

He chuckled, the raspy edge to it making me shiver. "You were exactly what I needed, Alina. I didn't need a pupil, I needed a teacher."

I exhaled in amusement. He was right about one thing, at least.

The moment of levity quickly faded as his fingertips drifted across the thick material of my bandages, his gaze solemn as he gently traced their length. "I want a family with you, Alina Starkov," he whispered, "I want more meaning to my life than just power and control and a throne. I want what I never thought I could have before you came into my life. Saints, I've never wanted something so badly." There was a certain rawness to his words that took my breath away. If I had to guess, I would think that maybe he had never even admitted that to himself before, that he had always longed for people to call his own, to love unconditionally and to receive the same in return.

 _The problem with wanting, is that it makes us weak_.

"One day, Aleks, we'll have a family," I smiled mournfully, my chest aching, "And I do want one with you, I do. But I'm not ready right now, you certainly aren't. And we have Sasha, she's already more than either of us can handle. When we're ready, we can try again, when both of us are prepared and Ravka is at peace, I promise you." I could see the pain in his eyes, the hopefulness deflating into thinly veiled disappointment at my words. "You're right," he finally murmured, a soft sigh filling the air soon after, "Somehow you're always right." I laughed mournfully as he pulled me close, fingers twisting through my hair, his lips pressing against my forehead.

_Amidst his exhale, he uttered the words she had still yet to hear him say, so soft that they were unintelligible. It brought him terror at the thought of the vulnerability it meant, but the Darkling, an ancient, powerful being beyond most anyone's imagination, was now sure of it more than anything he had ever been in centuries of living. Now he just had to work up the courage to say what was truly in his heart, something he hadn't ever done in his many, many lifetimes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authors note! please read! :
> 
> okay. so. I know from comments on previous chapters that some of you were very against the idea of alina being pregnant, and I totally get that. I 100% didn't write this into the story to be cheesy or cliche, I actually personally thought that how things unfolded would be an expectation subversion if anything. I fully believe that this plot point of alina's pregnancy/miscarriage was an essential development for the completion of aleksander's arc in this story. yes, he's in love with alina, but that can't always be enough to change a person completely, especially considering his goals and dedication to those goals for hundreds of years. you can see that pretty clearly in the past chapters, the still present dynamic of them being in love and yet still having different ideals and plans for the future. now the idea and potential of him being able to have a family after being alone and neglected by his mother (in terms of love and affection) for so long is really in my opinion what had to happen to be able to give him redemption in the end by changing his mindset of what he truly wants. he had to have the fully realized idea of greater meaning to his life rather than power and a throne (I literally included this in his dialogue), and having the purpose of having a child and raising a family is what I thought the most logical way to accomplish that was. now the miscarriage wasn't just a HA faked you out kind of thing, at this point in the story I wouldn't have wanted them to have a child because in my opinion their more healthy relationship dynamic has really just started and a baby wouldn't compliment that at all. so there you go, thats my explanation and I hope this didn't upset/turn you off of this story too much, I always want to give you guys the best content I can! 
> 
> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	42. i love you alina starkov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to last chapter! are you crying yet? 
> 
> I just uploaded this idk what to call it a fic called the worst (fun fact I called it that bc im the worst and I never follow through with my writing projects so im trying to shame myself into doing it) and it will have fulfilled requests ALONG with some eventual scraps and extras from heart of darkness. 
> 
> this chapter is so fluffy because I just uploaded a fat smut piece and im trying to balance it out lol
> 
> also... *cries* this is the last full chapter, the very very last chapter is somewhat of an epilogue/wrap up so its like 1500 words so last unofficial chapter :(( 
> 
> for the second to last time, enjoy <3

The table was silent. Aleksander was broodingly quiet at my side, we sat opposite of Nikolai and Genya at the impossibly long negotiation table with an almost unbearable tension hanging over the room. It seemed Genya had become Nikolai's right hand in all of this, and I couldn't help the swell of pride that welled up in my heart at the sight. She deserved it all after being treated like nothing more than a disposable servant for the majority of her life.

"What are your propositions," Nikolai spoke first, all business and devoid of any of the lighthearted humor that always clung to him wherever he went. He looked like a different person, another layer of mask that had been peeled away. Aleksander's hand found mine underneath the table, our fingers intertwining together without a second thought. Patiently, I remained silent to let him answer.

This was his peace to make.

"Our proposal is to share the power of the throne," he asserted calmly after a moment, "Alina seems to think the monarchy is an outdated form of rule anyways, that the control over the governmental proceedings should be headed by multiple individuals rather than one. It's a concept I am open to. I will not, however, secede to letting you take back the throne and proceed as everything once was." I squeezed his hand, clearing my throat softly in reminder. Slowly, he exhaled, as if his next words were physically painful to say aloud. "And pardons on all sides, contingent on swearing allegiance to the new rule." We had argued over this point for hours it seemed like. I had told him you couldn't call people traitors when both sides were coming together to agree on a solution. He had responded with sullen silence, his telling indication that he knew I was right even if he clearly didn't like it.

Hesitantly, I looked up to gauge the reaction of both Nikolai and Genya. They were having a silent conversation, a less than ecstatic expression pulling at Genya's lips and furrowing her perfectly manicured brows. "How can we trust this?" Genya finally looked to us, something bitterly painful in the glimmer in her eye. Guilt crashed over me in a wave. "It's me, Genya, I would never lie to you," I whispered, swallowing down the hurt welling up in my throat. She shook her head slightly, her eye flashing with haunting pain before tightly closing. Aleksander's fingers twitched in my grip.

When he spoke, shock parted my lips open.

"I'm sorry, Genya, for what I did to you." His words were edged with a rasp, signifying his struggle to say the words aloud.

Nikolai and Genya's expressions of utter surprise mirrored my own.

When no one replied, he continued.

"I can never make up what I did to you, but it never served the purpose of anything other than what I thought I had to do. As Alina would say, it can never be undone, but she has made me a better man. I see now that I was... wrong." The words dripped with reluctance, but nevertheless, he had said them. Genya studied him, her mouth pressed into a thin, expressionless line before, slowly, she nodded once.

A bare smile pulled at my lips.

"Well I have to say I thought hearing an apology out of the Darkling was damn near impossible." Nikolai was shaking his head in mild disbelief, but the humor had returned to him, alleviating some of the tension gripping tightly in my chest. My smile deepened to a grin. "When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable," I caught his eye with a teasing tilt of my head. He laughed, a genuine, familiar laugh that warmed every last fiber of my being.

"I never thought I would actually be saying this, but I think, in fact, that we will be able to come to an agreement with some further discussion and official documents on the table," Nikolai nodded, pressing his hands against the desk and standing up in a definitive manner. I could have sang the praises of every single possible saint I could think of in that moment, unable to keep the elated smile from breaking out on my lips. Despite my stomach and chest throbbing from the exertion, I sprang up from my chair, running to their side of the table and throwing my arms around the two of them with unbridled enthusiasm. "Thank you, thank you both," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion as they hugged me back with reciprocated vigor.

I broke away instinctively at the feeling of Aleksander's presence approaching from behind me. My eyes lifted to meet his silver ones, underneath the mask of impassiveness, I recognized the subtle signs of relief in his gaze. He hadn't expected this meeting to go in the way that it did, I suspected that none of us really did. When his attention shifted over to Nikolai I bit down on my lower lip, my teeth sinking in hard enough to draw blood. A horrible anticipation grabbed a tight hold of my lungs as, after a beat of stillness, Nikolai extended his hand forward to Aleksander.

Slowly, Aleksander took it. They shook stiffly, cordially.

The tension was suffocating for another split second before they both released their grip; I quietly let go of the breath I was barely even aware I had been holding.

Aleksander's eyes returned to mine, a ghost of a smile on his lips clearly communicating his silent message. 

_We did it_. 

"Thank you, all three of you," I guided my hand into Aleksander's, a warm sense of satisfaction washing over me. We _had_ done it. Just as I had promised to myself, I had found the solution for peace for Ravka, albeit accompanied by more death than I had hoped. But for the most part, it was done.

Nikolai flashed me a crooked smile. "No, Alina, thank _you_."

For once, I felt like the leader everyone had always wanted me to be.

I was Alina Starkov, the saint of the people. 

***

I tilted my face up to the sun, eagerly soaking in the warmth of the peak of summer. Aleksander had a careful hold on me, his protective embrace understandably overbearing considering this was the first real walk I had taken since being shot. My heavy bandages had recently been replaced with thin strips of gauze, and though faint red scarring remained, for the most part I was healed. Externally, that is. The pain of losing the beginnings of a family for me and Aleksander was a wound that I suspected would probably never fully heal. "How do you feel, solnishka, are you in pain?" he prodded gently, holding me against his side, his grip secure at my waist. "Yes Aleks, I'm fine," I smiled softly at his obvious concern, twirling my fingers through his ends of his hair and tilting my face up to press a kiss against his cool cheek.

He heavily exhaled, pulling me closer before mumbling, "Okay, lets walk then. _Slowly_."

I refrained from snorting in an effort not to make myself wince from the movement and risk having Aleksander promptly cart me back inside as a result. We began to make our way down the garden path at a leisurely pace, our steps crunching softly on the packed gravel underfoot. I could feel his gaze burning through me intently. "I'm not a fragile doll, Aleksander, I promise you I'm not going to break," I laughed, ignoring the dull throb it sent through my abdomen. He was still for a moment before, gradually, his grip loosened until his hand was comfortably resting at my hip. "You're anything but a doll, my Alina, I'm well aware of that fact," he spoke with a touch of hoarseness, accompanied by a slight affectionate shake of his head. I arched a brow teasingly. He let out a soft, strained laugh before quickly averting his gaze and falling silent.

My smile faded in worried confusion. What was going on with him?

He tugged me along the path while purposefully avoiding eye contact, his gaze cast down to the ground and a million miles away. I studied him quietly, leaning into the curve of his body as we walked. He wasn't himself, something was very obviously off. There was a sureness that he usually held about him that was gone, his movement devoid of confidence. Aleksander Morozova was never anything _but_ confident. My teeth latched to my lower lip for a brief moment before I nudged him slightly. He blinked several times, as if bringing him back to the present. I tilted my head to the side, letting a gentle smile curl at my lips. "You know I'm proud of you, right Aleks? I'm proud to love the man that you are today, even if the others don't understand yet," I looked up at him, tracing the hard curve of his jawline with my eyes. He nodded, his grip tightening around me again, our steps slowing even further as we neared the large cherry blossom tree overlooking our bench.

Soft pink petals littered the dewy, bright green grass, golden sunlight filtering through the thick of leaves and branches. He was so very obviously on edge that I couldn't help the cold fingers of fear that crept around my throat when he stopped walking entirely. I laid my hand against his chest, registering the unnaturally quick pound of his pulse under my palm. "Are you okay, Aleks?" I softly questioned, my fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt as I leaned into him. His breath was shallow and uneven, whispering over the back of my neck like a soft caress.

"Look at me, Alina."

Rather reluctantly, I pulled away from the comfort of him, my back arching slightly so that I could meet his silver eyes. His tongue trailed over his bottom lip uncertainly, he hesitated before reaching into his kefta, producing a freshly picked white rose from its pocket. I remained silent. I had never seen him like this before, it was increasingly disconcerting. His hands, however subtly, were shaking as he offered the flower to me. I curled my fingers around the thick stem, prying it from his grasp. Patiently, I waited. The two of us had enough time to last an eternity, after all.

Finally he spoke.

"I thought I lost you Alina." He paused in an effort to compose himself. My heart twisted. "I thought I lost you, I thought... I thought I lost the only good thing to ever happen to me. The only good thing to ever love me for the horrible monster that I was and save me from my own darkness." I swallowed hard, clutching the rose into my chest. He continued. "For three days, I couldn't even function like a normal human being. All I could think of was how could I possibly continue without you? What was life even worth without having you by my side, what is an eternity without you to share it with? The answer is nothing. I'm nothing without you. I never thought that I would need you this much. And that's why I almost lost my mind, the thought of you dying in my arms, not knowing how much I love you."

Time seemed to stand still. It felt like I had forgotten how to breathe.

"For hundreds of years, I've been certain of everything. Every move was calculated, every emotion manipulated. And falling for you, Alina Starkov, I can assure you, nothing has been certain about that. But even if I fought it at every single damn turn, I fell in love with you anyways. I don't know how it happened, I don't know why you have such a powerful hold on my heart. And now, there isn't a single moment where I want to stop loving you, to stop touching you, to stop hearing you laugh and call me names. I want all of you, for forever, for every single breath I have left in this world. Now the only real thing that I am certain of is how much I love you, Alina. I love you and will always love you, until the day I die."

I was breathless, but in the best possible way. He had physically taken my breath away.

"I love you too, Aleksander."

My lips met his. There was nothing else in the world I wanted more than him. And finally, he had told me he felt the same way as I did, that nothing else was more important than what we shared. He cupped my cheeks, pulling me closer, the feeling that hummed across the tether so intense it almost left me reeling.

He loved me.

Tears were salty on my lips, I pulled away, trying to wipe them from my cheeks. A pressed hand at the small of my back brought me closer to him, I rested my head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin. He placed a soft kiss against my forehead, mumbling the phrase against my skin in utter contentment.

"I love you, Alina Starkov."

No one had believed me when I had said there was still good in him. That there was still something salvageable amidst the jaded years of eternity and bitter ambition. Even I had doubted my ability to bring the light out of him, to strip away the years of pain and suffering and resentment to find the boy he once was, Aleksander Morozova. Our balance would always be precarious, our shared hunger for power something that would never diminish, even through decades and centuries of living. But as long as we had each other, and our love to keep us grounded, we would be able to protect the world and give it peace.

I could have easily been dragged down into the darkness with him. But I reached for his hand through the shadows, and together, we both found the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feel free to leave any comments/constructive criticism/praise/kudos :)


	43. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. its the end! seven months later...
> 
> it went by so fast and im sad its over but im glad i got to share this with all of you. 
> 
> for the last time, enjoy <3 
> 
> p.s. I have been going back and revising and editing chapters, so if you ever want to go back and reread they'll be slightly different/ better quality writing haha :)

_two weeks later._

"Aleks, come on," I leaned into his shoulder, my fingertips dancing along the back of his hand lightly. I could tell he was struggling to remain as stoic as he always did in the presence of others, but the corner of his mouth was pulling up ever so slightly in concession. Aleksander, Nikolai, and I had since come to the decision that a parliament with fixed amounts of power was the best solution to their mutual obsession with the throne. Suddenly the matter of the Fjerdans had become an issue that the three of us, as well as Genya, Zoya, David, Tolya, and Tamar, would all deal with together, meaning that the recent arrival of a Fjerdan document detailing their total and complete surrender became a quick point of contention over whether to accept it or not.

Aleksander, obviously, being the main source of struggle.

"Fine, but I want the entirety of all of the borders under our jurisdiction to patrol and monitor," he determined with a touch of sullenness. Nikolai tilted his head to the side, snorting, "Sounds reasonable. Which must mean that I'm either hallucinating or in an alternate universe."

I shot him a look.

Aleksander stared at him impassively with chilling quartz eyes. "Or you're just an imbecile," he suggested with a touch of challenge to his voice.

"Aleks," I spoke warningly, pressing my hand flat against his chest.

Nikolai let out a mocking laugh. "At least I'm not a power hungry madman."

A scoff of indignation left my lips. "Nikolai!"

Aleksander tensed, his words coming out as a low growl, "Well at least I'm not a-"

"Enough!" I snapped, silencing them almost immediately. An identical look of sullen guilt passed over both of their faces, they looked down at the table as I glared at both of them. The last couple of weeks had been rocky at best, but they were slowly getting better at not being at each other's throats all the time. 

It was a work in progress.

There was a beat of silence before Genya broke the tense air.

"It's settled then," she spoke with a touch of incredulity, "For the first time in decades we're at peace with both Fjerda and Shu Han."

Now that brought a smile to my face.

"Daddy darkles!"

The sound cut the tension in the room almost immediately as Sasha came running in with a whirlwind of frantic guards at her heels and blonde curls bouncing in time with her steps. She had raced to Aleksander's side and into his arms in an instant, tugging on his hand insistently. "I'm sorry, moi soveryeni," one of the guards panted nervously, "We tried to stop her."

Aleksander ignored him, the warm, stern expression he already had on enough to making me smirk slightly. "Sasha, what did we say about interrupting our super important, grown up meetings," he chided softly. Her rosy lips immediately pouted, she played with his fingers as she looked down, mumbling, "I just wanted to play." I couldn't help but grin at the sound of Nikolai snickering softly. "Yeah, come on, _daddy darkles_ , she just wanted to play," he flashed a wicked smirk my way.

Aleksander glared at him from across the table. Nikolai cheesed back.

"Niki, you can play with us too," Sasha smiled brightly at her own idea, "We can play my favorite game daddy darkles sparkles where we get to dress him up and make him beautiful!" I had never seen Aleksander look more mortified than he did now, his face sinking to rest in his hand in embarrassment, eyes closing in an effort to avoid eye contact with anyone. I stifled my laughter as Nikolai's smirk widened into an incredulous grin. "I think I speak for everyone when I say we would all love to participate in this lovely game," Nikolai looked around at the table expectantly. The responses were mixed, to say the least. Zoya still regarded both Aleksander and Nikolai as if she would like nothing more than to kill them both slowly and painfully. David was looking especially nervous, Tamar was grinning and laughing right along with Nikolai, and Tolya and Genya were stoically silent, frowning in disapproval.

It had been difficult for me to come to accept that not all of them would forgive Aleksander, or ever even accept him in any way. And that was the price Aleksander had to pay for what he had done, no apology or action could erase Genya's scars or bring Zoya's family back. But he had been making the effort, and this lighthearted exchange only further teased at the hope that one day they could all see him in the way that I did.

A smile tugged at my lips as Sasha patted Aleksander's arm in consolation, her face alight with small giggles. He sighed, I could tell he was working to suppress a smile at her affectionate laughter. "I'll play princess with you again, as long as miss Alina gets to play the queen," he determined in mock seriousness. Sasha rolled her eyes in a manner that was much too sassy for her young age. "Yes, of course miss Alina is going to play the queen, and you'll be the king." Aleksander looked over to me, a crooked smile dancing across his features. "Give me a second Sasha, the king has to kiss his queen now," he spoke teasingly, shifting her to the side of his lap. My cheeks flushed involuntarily as he leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips, soft and delicate. My hand found his on instinct, our fingers lacing together. When we broke away, I blushed at the numerous pairs of wide eyes staring at us in mild bewilderment. Aleksander showing emotion around anyone was an rare occurrence, even more uncommon was for him to show affection.

"You'd better get used to it, guys, we're all in this together now," I laughed as Nikolai made a fake gagging noise in mock disgust. Aleksander shook his head, flashing me a bright, genuine smile before his lips found mine once again.

The warmth that filled me could be described as nothing other than the true epitome of happiness. In every fiber of my being, I knew that this reality was what was meant to be, this was my destiny all along. My friends and Aleksander and Sasha, a broken, bitter family that had to survive all of the war and struggle in order to bring this new era of hope and prosperity to our country. Light and darkness and balance in every sense of the word, both Grisha and otkazats'ya finding peace under the reign of both of our kinds working together. This was the dawn of a new age for Ravka.

Aleksander had been right. We had been meant to change the world together.

***

When Alina Starkov's heart had finally healed itself of the wound of losing her unborn baby, it wasn't long before she and Aleksander Morozova had a child of their own.

Not long after that, the love of her life proposed to her in particularly romantic fashion for someone with a supposed heart of darkness, accompanied by an abundance of white roses underneath the cherry blossom tree where he had confessed his feelings to her for the first time.

Sasha and their baby boy Aleksander participated in the wedding with heart warming enthusiasm, while Nikolai walked the woman he had once loved down the aisle in place of the father she had never known.

Their shared rule was just, the saint of the people was revered for her work building orphanages and creating a safe haven for any and all to reside in, Grisha and otkazats'ya alike. Her husband and the clever fox prince were heralded for their unwavering protection over their nation, the combination of their skillful innovation and resounding strength making Ravka more prosperous than ever before.

And though they would eventually outlive everyone around them, Alina Starkov made certain that her and her husband's rule was just, that their power would never become corrupt, and that her heart would never grow cold as her husband's once had. She vowed to never let Aleksander Morozova succumb to that darkness again either, though the very existence of their love had melted the ice in his heart in a way that could never be undone.

They were not without their conflict. She was still naive and he would always have little aptitude for mercy or empathy, but despite their constant push and pull they managed to keep each other grounded. They were unimaginable beings of power, arguably even the closest thing to gods walking the earth. But through everything, they would forevermore be the balance that the world so desperately needed.

The Sun Summoner and the Darkling, Alina Starkov and Aleksander Morozova, light and darkness, had found peace at last.

 

 

_"You were meant to be my balance, Alina. You are the only person in the world who might rule with me, who might keep my powers in check."_

\-- 

 

 

_the end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say real quick how thankful I am for all of you guys, every comment and kudos always made me smile and got me through a lot of bad days. I really can't put into words how much your support means to me, how you stuck with me and watched/helped me grow as a writer over these past seven months. This is actually the only piece I have ever written/posted to completion, so this is kind of big for me and honestly kind of hard for me to let go of. So thank you for being so kind and gushing over alarkling feels with me, I love you all and its been an awesome journey. If you liked/enjoyed, leave a kudos or comment, even if you've never commented before! I love hearing from you guys and it'll help me deal with my own temporary depression that its all over. and if you're ever craving some more hod, ill probably be publishing some scraps in this fic I have for requests called the worst. darkness never dies and neither does this au hahah
> 
> again, thank you all, you're the best! <3


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